#i honestly don’t really know why i’m still watching. curiosity?
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n-evermores · 3 days ago
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By A Thread
Pairing: Alden Parker x NCIS!Reader Word Count: 6k+ Summary: Parker invites the reader to his cousin’s wedding, where unspoken feelings surface but end in rejection. Days later, a dangerous pursuit in the woods forces them to confront their feelings. Warnings: Age-gap romance A/N: A wedding scenario similar to Knight/Jimmy’s was requested about two years ago. I started writing it and couldn’t bring myself to find the right ending and it’s been stuck in my drafts. I finally decided to polish it up and finish it. This was a while back, which is why the beginning hints at Jimmy and Knight still keeping their relationship a secret. 
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“Me and Delilah are taking the twins to the aquarium this weekend. They’re already so excited.” Tim grinned, his eyes twinkling with warmth.
“Sounds like you’re a bit excited too,” Jess teased, a knowing smile tugging at her lips.
McGee just shrugged, his grin widening. She was right, of course, his face lit up every time he spoke about it.
“I have big plans this weekend too. We’re going—” Jess hesitated, releasing a nervous laugh. “You know.”
“Going where?” you asked, already guessing her plans involved Jimmy. Everyone knew about their relationship, yet she continued to dance around the topic like it was a big secret. Jess just shrugged, bringing her coffee cup to her lips to avoid answering.
Nick threw Jess a side-glance, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Well, I’ve got plans too,” he announced with a shrug. “What about you? Any big plans this weekend?” He asked you.
“Nope. Just me, my couch, and Netflix,” you replied with a big, performative smile. The truth stung more than you liked to admit. You wished for something to break the monotony of your weekends. If you weren’t working, you were cooped up inside, watching TV. It was the same boring routine every weekend, and most days you silently hoped for a big case just to shake things up.
“No plans at all?” Jess asked, her surprise evident.
“Yeah, you need to get out more. You’re like a hermit,” Nick teased, his tone light but pointed.
You sighed, half-laughing. “I go to the cafe sometimes. And on occasion, I take myself to the movies,” you countered lightly. “I just never have anywhere to go is all.”
“Would you like somewhere to go?” A familiar voice interjected.
You turned to see Parker rounding the corner, carrying a box of sweets. His eyes flickered with uncertainty as he studied your face. “My cousin’s getting married this weekend. I was invited, and honestly, I’m not really one for weddings. I could use a plus one.” He offered you a small, nervous smile.
Your heart swelled in your chest at the sight of his hopeful expression. “Will there be cake?” you asked, trying to keep the moment light.
“Well, yeah. It’s a wedding,” he replied, his gaze searching yours. “So? What do you say?”
You stared into his eyes, your resolve crumbling under their gentle intensity. “How could I say no to that face? Okay. Count me in,” you agreed, earning a fleeting look of curiosity from Parker.
As he set the box of sweets down on his desk, you wondered if you’d said the wrong thing. How could I say no to that face? Honestly you may as well tell him you think he's hot. But it was true. How could you say no to him when he looked at you like that?
“Perfect. I’ll pick you up at a quarter to six on Saturday,” he said, grabbing a pastry from the box.
Your heart did a little flip, and you took a steadying breath. You’d always loved the group trivia nights at Parker’s place, but you’d longed for a chance to spend time with him alone. The last time was weeks ago when he took you birdwatching. It was a memory you still clung to.
“You’re going to a wedding with Parker?” Nick leaned in, whispering just loud enough for you to hear. “You don’t think that’ll be a little awkward?”
You shrugged, brushing off his teasing. “No. Why would it be?”
Nick chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, try not to have too much fun. Parker might not be able to keep up.”
You just shook your head at Nick. You stole a glance at Parker and smiled, excited and nervous all at once. You couldn’t believe you were going somewhere formal with Parker. It almost felt like a date, but you quickly shoved that thought away.
It was not a date.
-
You stared at yourself in the mirror, scrutinizing your reflection. The cocktail dress was your favorite color, and it struck the perfect balance. It wasn’t too extravagant, but tasteful enough for a semi-formal event. Knight had offered you a long gown during your frantic search for the right outfit, but this felt more like you.
As you studied the curves of your body and the way the dress fit you like a glove, you wondered if Parker would like it. Or even notice it.
You took a deep breath, trying to calm the unease bubbling inside you. Meeting Parker’s family was intimidating enough. But more than that, the thought of being introduced as “just a friend” was a bittersweet reminder of your reality.
When the doorbell rang, you grabbed your clutch and hurried to open it. Parker stood there in a black suit with a crisp white button-down. His eyes widened slightly as he took you in.
“Wow. You look incredible,” he said, his voice soft.
You felt your cheeks heat under his gaze. “Well, look at you,” you replied with a smile, taking in how the suit complemented his already handsome face. God, he was just so good-looking, and you found yourself staring a little too long.
“Ready?” he asked, his hand brushing your elbow lightly as he gestured toward the car.
It wasn’t a date, you reminded yourself. But the way his hand lingered on your back as he guided you outside sent your heart racing.
Parker made small talk the entire way there, and you found yourself trying to relax as you tugged at your dress slightly. You were fine when he took you birdwatching, yet this felt different. The two of you, dressed nicely, attending a nice event with possible dancing. It was definitely different than birdwatching.
-
The venue was buzzing with laughter and chatter as Parker led you to your seats, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back. The brief contact was electric, and when it fell away, you missed it instantly.
You felt relief at spotting the familiar face of Roman. However, your relief was short-lived. Sitting next to him was Vivian, Parker’s ex-wife. The sight of her stirred an unwelcome pang of insecurity. You didn't want to feel that way. You liked Vivian, and you had little reason to feel the way you did, but you knew your irrational feelings had everything to do with your even more irrational feelings for Parker
“Dad, you didn’t tell me you were coming,” Parker said, his tone casual but edged with surprise.
“I wasn’t going to, but Viv convinced me,” Roman replied, nodding toward his companion.
Vivian smiled politely, but her gaze flickered to you, cool and appraising. The weight of her scrutiny made you shift uncomfortably in your seat. You brought your hands to your lap, nervously fidgeting until Parker’s hand found yours, stilling your movements.
“You okay?” he asked, leaning in close enough for only you to hear.
“Yeah,” you lied, forcing a smile.
He removed his hand with a small nod. A few moments later, wedding music echoed off the walls and you all stood to welcome the bride as she walked down the aisle. 
You stole a glance at Vivian. She wasn't looking at you anymore, and you wondered if perhaps she was just as jealous of you as you were of her. She probably didn't expect to see Parker here with a woman. Or maybe she just didn't trust the situation.
After the newlyweds exchanged their vows, everyone made their way to the reception hall.
The reception was crowded, and you felt fine with Parker by your side, that was until he wasn’t anymoree. After the music began, and the newlyweds shared their first dance, couples began dancing together under soft lights. Your heart sank as you watched Parker and Vivian take to the floor. They moved effortlessly, their shared history evident in the way they laughed together.
A young man approached you, breaking your reverie. “Care to dance?” he asked, his smile probably charming to most, but you found it annoying considering your sudden sour mood.
You glanced at Parker, who gave you a small nod of encouragement from the dance floor. Pushing aside your disappointment, you placed your nearly empty glass of wine down and accepted the man’s hand.
He smiled at you, giving you a quick once over, “Is that your dad you came with?”
You felt heat rise to your face. “Um, no. We work together. His cousin is the bride.”
“Oh, I’m on the groom's side.” He said, twirling you gracefully before pulling you close again, his grip light yet steady. You tried to focus on the rhythm, but your mind wandered to Parker, his attention entirely on Vivian. The sight sent a dull pang through your chest, one you struggled to shake. After moments of going through the motions with your dance partner you were pulled from your thoughts.
"Having fun?" a familiar voice interrupted, startling you. You turned to see Parker, standing a little too close to ignore. His hazel eyes sparkled with amusement, and he extended a hand to you. "Mind if I cut in?"
Your dance partner hesitated but stepped aside, tipping his head politely. "She's all yours."
Parker’s hand settled comfortably on your waist, his other hand clasping yours. The warmth of his touch sent a ripple of awareness through you, one you hoped he didn’t notice.
Parker observed you, tilting his head slightly to study your face. His voice was soft, his gaze curious. “Something on your mind?”
You hesitated, your eyes darting briefly to your previous dance partner, who was now chatting animatedly with another guest near the edge of the dance floor. Parker followed your gaze, his lips curling into a teasing smirk.
“Ah,” he said, his tone playful. “Caught your eye, did he?”
Your face flushed instantly. “What? No!” you protested, far too quickly. “He just asked me to dance.” If only Parker knew it wasn't that stranger who caught your eye. It was him and your gaze has been unwavering ever since.
“Hmm,” Parker murmured, clearly unconvinced. His grin widened, and his gaze flickered back to you. “Then why are you so defensive?”
You rolled your eyes, desperately trying to deflect. “Well, what about you and Vivian? You two seem pretty close. It’s nice that you’re still good friends. That can’t be easy, considering, well, everything.”
Parker’s expression shifted slightly, his amusement giving way to something softer, more thoughtful. “Viv and I have a lot of history,” he admitted, his tone quieter now. “We didn’t end things on bad terms, so staying friends just made sense. She’s family, in a way. Her and my dad are still very close.”
You nodded, your fingers fidgeting slightly against his shoulder. “That’s admirable. Not every divorced couple can manage that.”
“It wasn’t easy at first,” Parker said with a small shrug. “But we found something that worked, and it’s been good since.”
The weight of his words hung between you, and for a moment you were too aware of the space, or lack thereof, between you two. The song shifted to something slower, the tempo almost forcing you to step closer. His hand on your waist tightened slightly and you reveled in it, even if it was just because of the dance.
“You’re still quiet,” Parker remarked again, his voice softer this time, almost a whisper. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
You swallowed hard, your gaze flickering away from his intense eyes. “I’m fine,” you lied, your voice not as steady as you’d hoped. “It’s just been a long day.”
Parker didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he held you a little closer, his thumb brushing absentmindedly along the fabric at your waist. “Well, in case I haven’t said it yet,” he murmured, his voice carrying a warmth that made your pulse quicken, “you look stunning tonight.”
Your cheeks heated again, and you couldn’t stop the small, bashful smile that tugged at your lips. “Thanks,” you said softly. He did say you looked incredible when he picked you up, but the way he spoke now just felt different. Did Parker find you attractive? He probably did, but was he attracted to you was the real question you wanted to know.
The rest of the dance passed in comfortable silence, the weight of unspoken feelings lingering between you. As the song ended and Parker reluctantly stepped back, you couldn’t help but wonder if he too felt that quiet pull, the unshakable connection.
But before you could dwell too long on the thought, Parker offered you a crooked smile. “C’mon,” he said, motioning toward the dessert table. “Let’s find something to indulge my sweet tooth.”
“Good, I can use another glass of wine too.” You said and followed him, your heart still fluttering.
At the dessert table, Parker carefully balanced two small plates piled high with slices of cake, his expression one of pure determination. You couldn’t help but laugh as he handed you one and grabbed a fork for himself. 
“What?” he asked, grinning as he caught your amused look. “I take dessert very seriously.”
“Clearly,” you teased, taking a small bite of the cake. It was rich, full of flavor, and just sweet enough to make you sigh with contentment. “Okay, I get it now. This is worth the hype.”
Parker chuckled softly, his gaze lingering on you for a beat too long before he spoke. “Told you. Weddings might not be my thing, but the cake always makes it worthwhile.”
You felt the heat of his attention and quickly took a sip of wine, the warmth spreading through your chest now more than just from the alcohol. Parker’s presence, his easy smile, the way he always seemed so effortlessly thoughtful, was starting to make your head spin. Or maybe that was the wine.
You finished your dessert, getting yet another glass of wine to wash it down all while Parker continued to eat, obviously not ready to let go of his sweets just yet. You found it cute how his face lit up while he ate. He leaned in conspiratorially. “Want to sneak out for a bit? I could use some fresh air.”
You nodded, grateful for the excuse to escape the crowd and the persistent ache of watching him interact with Vivian earlier. Together, you slipped outside into the crisp night air, the sound of laughter and music fading as the two of you wandered toward a quiet garden behind the venue.
The stars above sparkled like tiny diamonds, their brilliance mirrored in the soft glow of the fairy lights strung through the trees. You hugged your arms to yourself, more for comfort than warmth, as Parker fell into step beside you.
“You okay?” he asked gently, his voice breaking the comfortable silence. “I know I sound like a broken record, but you really have been quieter than usual.”
You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress. The wine was making you bolder than usual, and for a moment, you considered brushing off his question. But Parker was looking at you with that familiar mix of curiosity and concern, and it made your chest ache.
“It’s nothing,” you said, though your voice didn’t carry much conviction. You gestured vaguely toward the sky. “Just one of those nights, I guess. Too much wine I suppose.”
Parker’s brow furrowed slightly, and he stopped walking, turning to face you fully. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
Your laugh came out softer than you intended, almost wistful. “That’s the thing, Parker. Sometimes you make it hard to not tell you everything.”
He tilted his head, his expression shifting to something you couldn’t quite read. “Why’s that?”
You glanced away, staring at the stars as if they held the answer. “You’re just always kind to me and always patient with me. Albeit, a little sarcastic," You snorted, and Parker turned to look down at you with mirth in his eyes.
"Did you just use the word albeit?"
You shot him a glare, "As I was saying. You do things like invite me to a wedding just so I wouldn’t spend another weekend cooped up alone.” You trailed off, realizing you were rambling. “You’re just you.”
Parker’s lips quirked into a small smile, his voice soft when he spoke. “I don’t think you realize how easy you make it for me.”
Your gaze snapped to his, your heart skipping a beat. “What do you mean?”
“You,” he said simply, as though the words had always been there, just waiting to be said. “I enjoy your company.”
The weight of his words hung between you, and for a moment, you felt like the ground had shifted beneath your feet. You swallowed hard, your pulse hammering in your ears. The wine buzzed in your system, loosening your tongue just enough for the truth to slip out.
“Sometimes I think I like spending time with you a little too much,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Parker’s eyes widened slightly. You knew you said too much. He blinked, surprise flickering across his face as if he hadn’t quite heard you right. He stared at you for a beat longer than was comfortable, his fork frozen mid-air over his slice of cake.
“Um,” he started slowly, his voice tinged with uncertainty, “are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
You froze, realizing too late how much your words had revealed. The weight of his gaze made your chest tighten. “I didn’t mean,” you stammered, your cheeks burning. “Look, just forget I said anything, okay?”
He didn’t respond right away, his fork finally lowering to his plate. His brows knitted together, and for a moment, he looked as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Instead, his gaze flickered away from you, toward the stars above, his thoughts clearly racing.
“I’m sorry,” you added quickly, “I’ve had too much wine. That’s all. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Y/N,” Parker interrupted gently, his voice still low but insistent. His eyes met yours again, and you could see the hesitation in them, the cautious way he was picking through his thoughts. “It’s not that I don’t, well, it’s just,” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, his usual calm demeanor visibly shaken. “You’re younger than me. I’m your boss. It’s—”
“Complicated,” you finished for him, your lips pressing into a small, strained smile. “I know. Trust me, I know. That’s why I shouldn’t have said anything. Just forget it, okay?”
He stared at you for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he turned his attention back to his dessert, his fork clinking softly against the plate. You did the same with your wine, the tension between you palpable as you both sat in silence. The sweetness of the cake and wine felt muted now, the air between you too thick with everything unsaid.
You felt like such an idiot. How could you be so stupid to insinuate such a thing to your team leader, to a man clearly old enough to be your father? You wanted to walk into the night and just disappear into a void of nothing. It was embarrassing.
After a few moments, Parker finally broke the silence. “You’re asking me to forget something that I’m not sure I can,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, almost as if he were talking to himself.
You glanced at him, startled by the confession. “What do you mean?” you asked, your voice cautious. Was he trying to admit he felt something too, or was your mind playing tricks on you?
He set his fork down as he met your gaze again. There was a vulnerability in his expression now, one you weren’t used to seeing from him. “Just,” he began slowly, carefully, “that I’ve thought about this before. About you. And I’ve told myself over and over again that it’s better to leave it alone. That it’s just easier that way.”
You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “And now?”
He hesitated, his jaw tightening as he looked away again, his eyes scanning the garden like he might find the answer hidden in the foliage. “Now, I don’t know,” he said honestly. 
His words hit you like a tidal wave, but before you could respond, he shook his head, a small, humorless laugh escaping him. “I’m sorry,” he said, his tone softer now, almost apologetic. “This isn’t fair to you.”
“Parker,” you interrupted, your voice firm despite the tremble in your hands. “Don’t apologize. Please.”
He looked at you again, his expression conflicted. “You’re right. It’s complicated,” he said after a long pause. “And I need to think hard before I say or do something I can’t take back.”
You nodded, your chest aching as you forced a small smile. “I get it,” you said softly. “Really, I do.”
For a while, the two of you sat there in the quiet garden in silence. The weight of the conversation lingered between you, unspoken but impossible to ignore. And though nothing had been resolved, the air between you seemed different.
-
The drive back was quiet.
The sound of the engine and Parker's choice of music filled the space between you, neither of you daring to break the silence. Parker’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles faintly pale against the leather. You stole a glance at him, noticing the way his jaw was clenched, like he was deep in thought or maybe fighting with himself.
You weren’t sure what to say, and honestly, you weren’t sure if you should say anything at all. The tension from earlier still hung in the air, thick and heavy, leaving you to pick nervously at the hem of your dress.
When Parker pulled up outside your apartment building, the car rolled to a stop, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The quiet stretched, the weight of unspoken words settling in your chest. Finally, he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, moving to your side to open the door for you.
The two of you walked to your door in silence, the sound of your heels clicking softly against the pavement the only thing breaking the stillness.
When you reached your apartment door, you turned to face him, clutching your clutch tightly in both hands. Parker stood just a step away, his hands buried deep in his pockets, his shoulders slightly hunched like he was bracing himself against the night chill, or maybe his own thoughts.
“Good night,” he said finally, his voice low and steady.
“Good night,” you replied softly.
He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours, as if searching for something. Then, before you could react, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek. It was soft, tentative, and yet it sent a jolt of warmth through you that made your breath catch.
“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” he murmured, his lips just barely brushing your skin as he pulled back.
The moment lingered awkwardly, both of you standing too close, and neither of you willing to step away. The air between you felt voltaic, and your heart pounded in your chest as his gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips and back again.
“Parker,” you started, your voice unsteady, but you didn’t get the chance to finish.
His hands reached up, seizing your face with a sudden urgency that made your breath hitch. And then his lips were on yours, hard and demanding, his kiss stealing the words from your mouth and replacing them with something far more primal.
Your clutch dropped to the floor as your hands instinctively found their way to his chest, clutching the fabric of his suit jacket as you kissed him back just as fiercely. The world around you disappeared, the only thing that mattered was the way his lips moved against yours, the warmth of his hands on your skin. You moaned into the kiss, pushing yourself flush against him. Your back hit the door, his hands moving to your waist to grip the fabric of your dress. You closed your eyes as he stippled soft kisses down your neck, and you buried your fingers in his hair.
But just as quickly as it began, it ended. Parker pulled back abruptly, his breathing unsteady, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment longer before falling away.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, his voice rough, filled with equal parts regret and something deeper, something raw. He took a shaky step back, running a hand through his hair. “Good night.”
Before you could respond, he turned and walked away, his pace brisk, almost hurried. You stood frozen in place, watching him retreat to his car, your heart pounding and your lips still tingling from the kiss.
When he climbed into his car and drove off, you let out a shaky breath, finally letting yourself move. You unlocked your door and stepped inside, closing it behind you with a soft click. You leaned back against it and let out a long sigh, your head tilting back as you tried to process what had just happened.
Your fingers brushed your lips and then your neck, the memory of his kiss still fresh, still vivid. You could still feel the roughness of his beard against your skin, and the way his lips left soft kisses down your neck. You shivered at the recollection, yet he ripped himself from you too easily. You had no idea what this meant. What any of it meant but you knew one thing for sure.
 Work was going to be interesting.
The next workday felt different, though you weren’t sure if it was real or just in your head. Parker had come in as he usually did, setting a box of pastries on his desk for the team, a small gesture of normalcy that only seemed to highlight how not normal things felt now.
The team gathered like clockwork, drawn to the smell of freshly baked goods, but you lingered at your desk, unwilling to engage too quickly.
Jessica Knight grabbed a pastry first, taking a big bite before leaning casually against Parker’s desk. “So,” she started, her voice light and curious, “how was the wedding?”
Parker, who was in the midst of placing his jacket over his chair, froze for the briefest of moments. He recovered quickly, straightening and offering a tight smile. “Good,” he said simply, his tone clipped.
Knight raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting more. “That’s it? Just ‘good’? I figured with you dragging Y/N along, there’d be some kind of funny story.”
Your heart lurched at the mention of your name, and you busied yourself with your computer screen, pretending to be engrossed in an email.
“Nope,” Parker said quickly, almost too quickly. “It was a nice wedding.” He cleared his throat and turned back to his files, signaling the end of the conversation.
But Nick wasn’t about to let it go. “So,” he called out with a sly grin. “How about you? Did you have fun?”
You froze, your hands pausing mid-typing as all eyes turned to you. You forced a smile, keeping your gaze firmly on your computer screen. “Yeah,” you said, your voice slightly too bright. “It was nice.”
The tension in the room was visible, and you could feel everyone’s curiosity like a weight pressing down on you. Knight’s gaze lingered, her sharp eyes darting between you and Parker, but for once, she didn’t press further.
Nick, however, let out a low whistle. “Okay, well, that was awkward,” he said with a chuckle, grabbing another pastry.
You muttered something about needing coffee and quickly excused yourself, heading for the break room and praying no one followed. All you could think about was the kiss and Parker's retreating form as he scurried away from you like a mouse from a cat. How were you supposed to work with him when you couldn't even look at him anymore?
-
The rest of the day passed in a blur, though you were painfully aware of every moment Parker spent in the same room as you. He didn’t try to talk to you, not that you gave him much of a chance. You avoided his gaze, kept your responses brief, and made yourself as inconspicuous as possible.
But as the afternoon wore on, you couldn’t avoid him forever.
You stepped into the elevator on your way to drop off some files, only for the doors to slide open again almost immediately. Parker stepped inside, his presence filling the small space and making the air feel heavier.
“Hey,” he said quietly, his tone cautious.
You nodded stiffly, keeping your eyes on the glowing panel of floor numbers.
The silence stretched, thick and unbearable, until Parker suddenly reached over and hit the emergency stop button. The elevator jolted to a halt, and the lights dimmed slightly, bathing the small space in a muted glow.
You turned to him, startled. “What are you doing?”
“Yeah,” he began, his voice steady but low, “we need to talk about last night.”
“There’s no need,” you said quickly, your voice sharp as you crossed your arms over your chest. “It’s fine. Just leave it.”
He stepped closer, his brow furrowed, his hands clenched at his sides. “It’s not fine,” he said firmly. “I crossed a line, and I need to apologize for that.”
“Don’t,” you cut him off, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and something deeper. “Don’t apologize again.”
He blinked, taken aback by the bitterness in your tone. "I was out of line.”
“I wish you wouldn’t say that.” you snapped, your words coming out harsher than you intended. “Just drop it, okay? Pretend it didn’t happen. You’re my boss, and it’s complicated, and I get it. I get it, Parker.”
The hurt in your voice was undeniable, and Parker’s expression shifted, guilt flickering across his face. He opened his mouth to respond, but you shook your head, holding up a hand to stop him.
“Don’t make this harder than it already is,” you said quietly, your voice breaking slightly.
For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the silence heavy with all the things you weren’t saying. Finally, Parker nodded, his jaw tightening as he reached out to release the emergency stop. The elevator jolted back to life, the lights returning to full brightness as the hum of movement filled the space once more.
When the doors slid open, you stepped out without a word, your heart pounding in your chest as you walked away. This time you were like the mouse running from the cat and you couldn't bring yourself to look back.
And Parker? He stayed behind in the elevator, leaning back against the wall and running a hand over his face, the weight of what happened pressing down on him like a tidal wave.
-
The next time you and Parker said anything to each other was on the field. You mostly kept things professional, but now you were knee deep in a new case, and you had no choice but to interact.
Your suspect was hiding away somewhere in a cabin, and you and Parker went to question them. Of course, they ran off into the woods, only making themselves look more guilty.
"We've got a runner!" You shouted as you took off after them. You were fast, but the suspect obviously knew the woods better than either of you, navigating the trails with ease.
The sound of snapping branches and heavy breathing filling the air as you chased the suspect through the uneven terrain. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, the pounding of your boots against the forest floor matched the thudding of your heart. Parker was just a few steps behind you. You didn’t slow down.
The suspect glanced over his shoulder, his eyes wild as he realized how close you were. He darted to the left, trying to lose you in the dense trees, but you pushed harder, your legs burning as you closed the distance between you. You heard Parker call your name, telling you to be careful, but you didn’t stop.
You caught up to him just as he stumbled over a fallen log. Launching yourself forward, you tackled him to the ground. He let out a grunt of surprise, but before you could pin him fully, he twisted beneath you, throwing an elbow that knocked the wind out of you. You gasped, trying to recover, but he was quick. He shoved you off, scrambling to his feet as you fought to regain yours.
Parker’s voice called from somewhere behind you, but you barely registered it. The suspect turned on you again, swinging wildly. You ducked, countering with a punch to his side that made him stagger. You went to grab him, but with a sudden burst of strength, he shoved you hard.
Your foot slipped on the damp earth, and before you could find your balance, you felt your body lurch backward. The world tilted, and suddenly you were falling. The edge of the embankment crumbled beneath you, and you plummeted down a small ledge, crashing into the freezing rush of the river below.
The icy water hit you like a brick wall, stealing the breath from your lungs as the current dragged you under. You fought to break the surface, your limbs thrashing as the water pushed and pulled at you mercilessly. Panic set in as you struggled to stay afloat, the roar of the river filling your ears.
“Y/N!” Parker’s voice cut through the chaos, and through the blur of water and adrenaline, you saw him at the edge of the riverbank. His eyes were wide with fear as he searched for you, his weapon already holstered, his pursuit of the suspect completely abandoned.
Without hesitation, Parker leapt into the water. The current dragged at him immediately, but he fought against it, his desperate strokes propelling him toward you. You managed to grab onto a jagged rock protruding from the water, clinging to it desperately as he closed the distance.
“Hold on!” he shouted, his voice strained.
When he finally reached you, his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you free from the rock and against his chest. You could feel the strength in his grip as he fought to keep both of you above water, his breath ragged as he swam toward the shore.
After what felt like an eternity, Parker dragged you onto the muddy riverbank, collapsing beside you as the two of you gasped for air. Your body trembled violently, both from the cold and the adrenaline still coursing through your veins.
“Y/N,” Parker rasped, his voice shaky as he sat up and pulled you into his arms. “Oh, thank God. Thank God you’re okay.”
You sank against him, your head resting on his shoulder as his arms wrapped around you tightly, like he couldn’t bear to let go. His hand brushed over your face, wiping away the wet strands of hair clinging to your skin as his eyes searched yours.
“I thought I lost you,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.
Your heart ached at the raw emotion in his words, and without a second thought, you reached up, your hand brushing his cheek. His gaze softened, and before you could even process what was happening, the two of you leaned in at the same time, your lips crashing together in a desperate, breathless kiss.
The kiss was messy, urgent, and filled with days of yearning since your last one. His hands cupped your face as you gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, neither of you caring about the mud or the cold. The kiss was pure, unspoken emotion, a silent confirmation of everything that had been building between you.
When you finally broke apart, you pressed your foreheads together as you tried to catch your breath. The world felt quieter now, the roar of the river fading into the background. Parker’s thumb brushed over your cheek, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure you were really okay.
You broke the silence first, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “If you apologize again, I swear I’m going to throw you in the river.”
A startled laugh burst from him, the tension breaking as he smiled down at you. “Noted,” he said, his voice warm with amusement.
And then he kissed you again, slower this time, his lips lingering on yours like he wanted to savor every second. As your arms wrapped around each other, the chaos of the day faded into the background. For now, this moment was all that mattered.
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teiasviago · 17 days ago
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been watching game of thrones against my better judgement and idk why i thought season seven would be good but i just saw it only has seven episodes 😭 there’s still so many moving pieces, more than ten is definitely needed
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moonstruckme · 5 months ago
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hellooow i love your writing and characterization is so good 🤌🤌🤌 could you write something about james and r talking about their future together and james is like "yess and we'll live in a nice house with two or three little us running around!!" and reader is like "haha thats so cute love but i don't want kids... ._."
Thanks for requesting!
modern au
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
You tsk, adding a picture to your pinterest board. “It’s decided. Someday, when we move out of this apartment, I simply can’t live without a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf.” 
“Mm.” James’ hum vibrates on your chest. He’s been lying there for some time, in and out of dozing while you’re on your phone. “I think that can be arranged. I want a fireplace.” 
“You just want to chop up wood.” 
You feel his smile spread against your skin. “And so what if I do?” 
“It wasn’t a criticism. So long as I can come watch.” 
His laugh is a warm puff of air, followed by a soft kiss just below your collarbone. This commences a fascination that involves his lips making a slow, idle perusal of your skin. “Do you think you want a big house?” 
“Not really.” Your attention has been pulled from your screen, the sight below you too adorable to ignore. You thread your fingers into James’ hair. “Too much cleaning. Honestly, if you have any questions you should just look at my pinterest. I’ve got it all laid out. We can make room for whatever TV you want, though, I suppose. Plus a secret tunnel to Sirius’ and Remus’.” 
“Obviously,” he agrees. “Yeah, I’m the same. All I need is my fireplace, you, and maybe a nice backyard for the kids.” 
Your hand stills on James’ head as a heavy weight drops into your chest. 
You’ve managed to evade this conversation, you’re not sure how. You’re not sure why either. Maybe just to make a good thing last, for as long as you could. But you know how much James loves kids. And if you’re honest with yourself, this, the proof that he does expect them one day, has always felt inevitable. You feel like a liar for not bringing it up with him sooner. 
Maybe it worsens your deception, but you keep your tone light as you ask, “Would you settle for a backyard for a couple of dogs instead?”
James gives a little laugh, tinged with bemusement. It makes you feel worse. 
“Or cats,” you say, voice growing smaller. “Or no pets, up to you.” 
It’s probably your obvious unease that tips him off. James looks up at you. You straighten his glasses for him automatically. 
“What do you mean?” he asks, and there’s no accusation in his tone, only curiosity. 
A low buzzing burrows into your ears, not unlike how you imagine it’d sound if you were drowning. 
“I don’t really want kids.” 
James’ face falls, and your heart splinters. 
“You don’t?” It’s like he thinks he might’ve misheard you. 
You shake your head. “I’m sorry,” you say, immediately angry with yourself for apologizing but not angry enough to overshadow your guilt. “I’ve thought about it a lot, and I just don’t. It’s not that I hate kids or anything, I just, I don’t want to have any of my own.” 
“Oh.” The word seems to leave James on a breath, faint and hollow. “Okay.” 
Your eyes burn, and you cannot cry right now but you can’t seem to shut up either. “If I ever did want to, it would be with you. But I just—” your voice fractures “—I don’t want to bring kids into a home that doesn’t want them, even if—if it’s only me that doesn’t. It’s not fair.” 
“No, you’re right.” James’ voice sounds a bit more like him now. He’s nodding, slowly, like he’s still wrapping his head around things. “You shouldn’t have kids if you don’t want them. For you and for them.” 
You nod. Hot tears trudge down your cheeks. 
Wordlessly, he sits up and wraps his arms around your shoulders. James is a really good hugger. Tight and warm, like he’s given and received plenty in his life. You know he’d be a great dad. Any kid would be lucky to have him, someone who comes from a love passed down and strengthened through generations. You’re just not meant to be a mom. 
You hold onto each other tightly, and you wonder if it’s the last time you will. You know in your heart that you’re doing the right thing for yourself, that you should never make such a life-altering choice based on someone else, but right now you’re desperate enough to consider it. You think you might do anything to keep him. 
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 
James pushes his face into your neck. You think, to your horror, that he might be crying too. 
“It’s okay,” he says. “I don’t want you to be sorry, sweetheart. It’s not your fault.” 
“I wish that I wanted to.” 
“You don’t. It’s okay.” 
You sit there like that for long minutes. When James pulls back, he sets his hands to your face, smiling ruefully as he thumbs away your tears. You choke out a little laugh and do the same for him. You have the urge to kiss his cheek, warm and beloved, but you don’t know if you should. 
“We can have pets,” he says in a quiet, rough voice. “And if Sirius and Rem or Lily or anyone has kids, I can just be their favorite uncle.” 
“You would be,” you say. “Being their aunt would be fun, too.” You study him anxiously. “Are you sure?” 
James’ lies down beside you, seemingly exhausted. “Sure about what?” 
You chew the inside of your cheek. “I don’t know, I guess that you’re okay with this.” 
He doesn’t answer right away, which you appreciate. You want him to think about it. A sigh leaves him, long and heavy. “It’s going to take me a while to get used to the idea,” he says finally. 
“But…for right now, you don’t want to break up?” 
“What?” James turns to look at you. Whatever he sees makes his face soften. “Oh—no, honey, I don’t want that. That wasn’t even…I wasn’t thinking like that.”
“Are you sure?” you ask again, though it threatens to bring another wave of tears. “I know you pictured things differently. I’d get it.” 
“I always wanted all of that with you,” he says, soft and yet somehow firm. “It’s going to take me some time to change how I picture the rest, but you’re not going anywhere. Not if I can help it.” His mouth curves slightly as he holds out his hand in invitation. You place yours in it. He brings your palm to his lips, kissing your heart line. “It’s you and me, yeah?” 
A pleasant feeling skitters up your arm to sit in your chest. “Yeah.”
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revelboo · 2 months ago
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Could we have more for "Gravity"? 🙏 reader making it her life's goal to see robot dick as soon as she realizes it flusters OP is so me-coded and I'm living for it. I love your super serious emotional fics, but I also love the human being so unserious 🤭
Honestly, same. 18+ content
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Gravity Pt 9
Optimus Prime x Reader
• Pacing outside the door of his habsuite, he runs a frustrated hand over his face. Trying to get himself back in control, because you don’t realize what you do to him. Asking about that. Had it only been curiosity or was it actual interest? Why is that difference so very important to him? And something he really shouldn’t be thinking about at all. You’re his to protect, considering anything else, wanting more, is wholly inappropriate.
• Sitting cross legged on the berth where he’d left you, there’s nothing to do but wait for him to come back. Who’d have thought that one not so innocent question would send him running? Know you should let it go, but that almost panicked look on his face is just so sweet. Like the big guy himself. And you’d been straight with him, if he’d been a human guy and treated you like he does, you’d have rode him until you’re both too exhausted to crawl out of bed.
• One more thing he can’t have. Accepting that, he lets himself back inside his quarters and finds you sitting on his berth eating that crunchy, dry food out of a box. “So you got some freaky alien stuff going on like double dicks or crotch tentacles?” Gritting his denta behind his mask as you just grin up at him, he vents tiredly.
• He almost looks like he’s in pain as he just straight up ignores the question. Apparently you’ve reached the limit of how much bullshit he’s willing to put up with. Silent, he begins moving the uneaten food and his half empty energon cube off the berth and sits beside you, elbows on his knees and face in his hands. Making you feel guilty about screwing with him. Especially since, realistically him abducting you probably saved your life given the path you were on. And you owe him more than you can ever hope to repay.
• “You know,” you say and he hears your little feet padding on the berth. Peeking at you, he watches you slowly spin. Dancing again and he wonders why you do that, your expression no longer teasing, but oddly empty. “The club I danced for, didn’t pay a lot. Sometimes if the customer looked like he had money, we’d have a private party.” Arms over your head, you turn so your back is to him. “And I always told myself it didn’t matter. That I didn’t care, because every dollar got me a little closer to getting the hell out of there.” There’s something under the resignation in your voice, something broken that makes his spark ache. Wishing he’d found you just a bit sooner, before life had scarred you.
• Wrapping your arms around yourself, you wish you could just shut up. Because telling him this, how dirty you really are? He’s not going to look at you the same way if you don’t stop. Won’t treat you the same way. And part of you knows that everything that’s wrong with your life is wholly your fault. Stubbornly doubling down again and again until there was no digging yourself out. You hear him shift behind you, a metallic rasp. Leaving again? Done with you?
• There’s an unsettling pull as he mass shifts, of willing himself smaller and burning so much energy all at once. And when he’d done, you’re still so much smaller than he is. Just this fragile little thing that still seems so unreal to him as he reaches out and pulls you back into him. Hearing your startled inhale as he catches your wrists in a big hand, unsettled that he can loop the servos of one hand so easily around both your little wrists. “You think I’m proud of every single thing I’ve done? That I haven’t made mistakes?” He asks and feels you shiver.
• Head craning to look over your shoulder and up at him, for once you can’t say anything at all. No smart ass comment or teasing. It hadn’t even occurred to you that he could do something like this. And he’s warm against your back, suddenly aware of him in a way you’d never been before. Those big hands achingly gentle on you. Has anyone ever touched you like that? Gently? It’s too much. Too real, sending you into a panic. “Please tell me it’s not crotch tentacles,” you blurt, hearing him make a noise suspiciously between a groan and a laugh as his other arm curls around you. Holding you closer.
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luxerians · 27 days ago
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The Last Mask (04)
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Hwang In-ho/Oh Young-il/Player 001 x Reader
Chapter 04 - Player 001
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Story Masterlist
NEXT : Chapter 05
PREV : Chapter 03
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After the voting, the guards began distributing lunchboxes. You reached the front of the queue and took one from a pink-clad guard. Stepping out of the line, you noticed player 390 behind you, and the two of you headed toward a quiet corner between the bunk beds on the right side of the hall.
Player 456 was already sitting there, his eyes fixed on the floor. His meal and drink sat untouched beside him. You sighed softly at his distant demeanor.
“You two are friends, right?” you asked player 390, slowing your steps.
“Huh? Me and Gi-hun?” player 390 glanced at player 456. “Oh, yeah. His mother liked me.”
You nodded, assuming they had been friends for a long time. You asked, “Has he always been this distant and quiet?”
“Not at all,” player 390 said, shaking his head. “He was actually really cheerful. Also very loud. He used to laugh at stuff no one else thought was funny. And you know what always set him off?”
Curiosity piqued, you asked, “What?”
Player 390 grinned. “Losing at betting on horses.”
“You two used to bet on horses?”
“Well, we did,” he said with a shrug. “But three years ago, he disappeared. I couldn’t reach him, and his mom was worried sick. She was already physically sick, too. She passed away not long after he vanished.”
“Three years ago? He said he played these games at that time.”
“Yeah, now that you mention it,” player 390 replied. “He should’ve contacted me after winning. I really thought he was dead.”
You lowered your voice. “Well, in a way, he does seem dead yet alive right now.”
Player 390 turned to you with a small smile. “Anyway, I haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m Jung-bae, and that is Gi-hun.”
You smiled back, giving your name in return. By then, the two of you had reached Gi-hun’s spot and sat down on either side of him.
You began unboxing your lunchbox while Jung-bae turned to his long-time friend. “Look at this lunch. It’s just like my mom used to make. What’s in yours?”
Gi-hun didn’t respond. His silence hung heavy, but Jung-bae pressed on.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Jung-bae scooped a spoonful of rice with some fried egg and held it out toward him. “Look, you’ve got to eat. You know what they say, ‘Eat up, even on your deathbed.’ Just do your thinking while you eat, or afterwards. Here.”
Still, Gi-hun ignored him. Jung-bae sighed and pulled the spoon back.
“Forget it then,” he muttered before taking the bite himself. With his mouth full, he added, “This might be for the best. I don’t know about you, but that 20 million wouldn’t even cover my interest. If we play just one more game…”
“Jung-bae,” Gi-hun finally spoke, his tone heavy. He stared solemnly at his friend. “Last time I was here, someone said the exact same thing. And in the end, that person died here.”
Jung-bae chewed quietly, his earlier enthusiasm fading. You watched the two of them, a quiet curiosity growing. What kind of experience had he gone through here? Had he lost friends? The thought that everyone he once knew in these games had died was haunting. But why is he back?
“Help us then, sir.”
The voice drew your attention. You, Jung-bae, and Gi-hun turned to see player 001 approaching your corner. Behind him were player 100 and a few others. Their presence immediately shifted the atmosphere.
“You said you’ve played these games,” commented player 001.
Gi-hun stared at him briefly before lowering his head, as if retreating into himself. You thought he might ignore them altogether until player 001 spoke again.
“I pressed the O button because of you.”
Gi-hun looked up at him, surprised. Player 001 continued, “Honestly, I was scared. I wanted to quit and leave. But you made me think maybe I could play just one more game.”
“Me too,” another player behind him chimed in.
“Same here,” added another.
You glanced at Gi-hun and murmured, “Looks like it’s a bad idea revealing you’re a previous winner.”
Gi-hun turned to you, exhaling through his nose. “I thought it would make everyone understand… that everyone here is doomed to die as long as we stay here.”
You nodded slightly, your gaze shifting back to player 001, who was already looking at you. Feeling a bit awkward, you quickly averted your gaze and pretended not to notice.
“Sir,” player 001 said, leaning closer to Gi-hun. “You know which game’s next, don’t you?”
Several players leaned in, their curiosity evident. Even you couldn’t help but wonder. Jung-bae put down his lunchbox and turned to his friend. “You’re a previous winner, so you should know. What are we playing next?”
Gi-hun avoided eye contact, his voice low as he finally answered. “The second game was Dalgona.”
The bed beside you creaked as someone shifted on it. You glanced over to see player 388 leaning toward your corner. “Dalgona? The sugar candy with a shape you can carve out?”
“That’s right,” Gi-hun replied. “We had to choose one of four shapes and carve it out.”
“Four shapes? Which was the easiest one?” Jung-bae asked quickly.
“Triangle.”
“Which was the hardest one?” Jung-bae pressed further.
“Umbrella.”
“Umbrella?” player 001 scoffed. “Some people chose umbrella? Those unlucky bastards must have bitten the dust.”
At his words, Gi-hun stared at him silently, his expression unreadable. There was something in his gaze that felt like judgment, maybe even offense. You noticed it but chose not to dwell on it, focusing instead on your lunch.
“So that means we should all just pick triangle,” player 388 suggested. “Everyone could probably pass with that.”
“Hush now!” player 100 stepped forward, positioning himself beside player 001. “If all 365 of us survive, the prize money won’t go up at all. Then we’ll have risked our lives again for nothing.”
“That’s true,” a few players behind him agreed, nodding.
Player 100 continued, “Listen. We should probably keep this information to ourselves. What do you say?”
Player 001 stayed quiet, while others eagerly nodded their agreement. But before the discussion could settle, Gi-hun spoke up, his tone firm. “We can’t do that. I’m telling you this to save everyone’s lives.”
“And we don’t even know if the next game will really be Dalgona,” you added, scooping another spoonful of rice.
Gi-hun nodded. “That’s right. If it’s confirmed that the next game is Dalgona, I’m going to tell everyone what I know.”
Player 100 scoffed, rolling his eyes before turning and walking away. The group of players who had followed him quickly trailed behind, leaving the corner quieter and less tense. You exhaled softly, relieved to have the space back.
Player 001, however, remained. He shifted his gaze to you, Jung-bae and Gi-hun.
“So, which shape did you pick?” Jung-bae asked with a curious raise of an eyebrow.
Gi-hun looked at him deadpan, offering no response.
You chuckled softly at the exchange, drawing their attention. Their curious stares settled on you, but you feigned innocence, focusing on your lunch as if you hadn’t been following the conversation.
Still, the words slipped out.
“So, did you choose umbrella?” you asked, your tone playful.
Gi-hun turned his gaze toward you, his expression flat and unimpressed. For a moment, you thought he might actually answer, but then he looked away, ignoring the question entirely. His silence was pointed, as if he’d chosen to pretend he hadn’t heard you at all.
You and Jung-bae exchanged knowing glances, both of you stifling a grin. It wasn’t until player 001 spoke that you realized he had been watching the entire interaction.
“May I ask you something?”
All three of you – you, Gi-hun, and Jung-bae – turned your attention to him. Player 001 moved closer, sitting down on the stairs beside your group. He directed his question straight at Gi-hun.
“Why did you come back to this place?” he asked. “You said you won and made it out. Then you must have received 45.6 billion. Did you spend it all?”
Jung-bae’s eyes widened as realization seemed to hit him. He asked Gi-hun incredulously, “Did you bet on horses again?”
You side-eyed the pair, amused by Jung-bae’s immediate assumption.
Gi-hun shook his head solemnly. “That money doesn’t belong to me. It’s blood money for the people who died here. The same goes for the money up there.”
You couldn’t help but silently agree. Survival guilt had clearly taken a toll on him, and you imagined the weight of it must have been crushing.
“You don’t have to think of it that way,” player 001 said, his voice calm. Gi-hun looked at him in mild astonishment. Player 001 continued, “It’s not like you killed those people, and saving that money won’t bring them back to life.”
Gi-hun leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His tone turned sharp as he replied, “If you had pressed the X, everyone here would’ve changed their mind by tomorrow. All of us would’ve made it out alive.”
Player 001 held his gaze, his expression unyielding. “That’s right. I was the last to press the O button. But there were 186 more people who wanted to stay.”
“And there were also 185 people who wanted to leave,” Gi-hun countered.
You and Jung-bae exchanged glances, sensing that neither man was willing to back down. Their differing perspectives created a palpable tension.
Player 001 broke the silence. “Let’s say I pressed X and we all got a chance to vote again tomorrow. Would everyone have been happy? Do you think a majority of O players would change their mind and thank me?”
Gi-hun’s brow furrowed deeper, his glower showing he was searching for another argument.
Before things could escalate further, Jung-bae intervened. “Enough, you two,” he said. “There’s no point in placing blame now. You know the saying. A widow understands a widower best. Let’s just focus on the game tomorrow, okay?”
He gestured toward Gi-hun and said, “He has won all these games before. If we stick together, we’ll have nothing to worry about.”
“But we can’t always rely on him,” you interjected. “He doesn’t need more pressure from everyone expecting too much from him.”
Gi-hun and player 001 both turned to you, their gazes quiet but intent.
Jung-bae nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right, but he has the experience. Any advice he has will help.”
“He’s right,” another voice chimed in. The four of you turned to see player 388, who had been eavesdropping from his bed. He hopped down and stood close. “We have to stick together. I’ll be with you all the way.”
Jung-bae frowned in skepticism. “Who are you?”
The man came to a stop in front of you all and gave a quick bow. “I’m Dae-ho. Kang Dae-ho.”
Dae-ho extended his hand to Jung-bae, a clear offer for a handshake. Jung-bae didn’t take it, instead replying dryly, “Oh, Dae-ho. Have we met?”
Dae-ho’s expression faltered briefly before he glanced at player 001, who kept his head low, and then at Gi-hun, who looked at him with indifference. Finally, his gaze landed on you. Seeing no skepticism in your expression, he extended his hand toward you.
You blinked in surprise but took his hand. He clasped yours in both of his, nodding gratefully as you introduced yourself. You could feel the others watching the interaction closely. After a moment, he let go of your hand, looking slightly more at ease.
“Earlier during the game, Mr. 456 here was like,” Dae-ho began, pausing to mimic Gi-hun’s urgent warning style from the first game. “Freeze! And I became his fan.”
You grinned at his enthusiasm while Gi-hun turned his gaze away, clearly embarrassed. Undeterred, Dae-ho continued eagerly, “I’d like to get to know you all better. Please give me a chance!”
Jung-bae stood suddenly as Dae-ho mimicked Gi-hun again. “Freeze! That was so cool!”
You chuckled softly, but the sound caught Gi-hun’s attention. He glanced at you with a look that felt half-judgmental before shifting his gaze elsewhere.
“Hang on,” Jung-bae said abruptly, grabbing Dae-ho’s sleeve and pulling it upward to reveal an ROKMC tattoo. Dae-ho looked at him, confused, as Jung-bae asked, “You were in the Marines?”
“Yes, why?”
“Class number?” Jung-bae countered, his tone sharp.
Dae-ho gave him a once-over before letting out a wheeze of amusement.
“Oh, you’re laughing?” Jung-bae challenged, unzipping his jacket and pulling up his sleeve. He revealed the same ROKMC tattoo on his forearm.
Dae-ho’s amusement vanished. He stepped back, clearly caught off guard, as Jung-bae stood tall, even combing his hair back dramatically with his fingers.
Suddenly, Dae-ho snapped into a salute, raising his voice. “Victory at all costs! I was in Class 1140, sir!”
Jung-bae saluted back, his grin wide. “At ease! ‘Dae-ho.’ I knew there was something about you.”
The sudden burst of military camaraderie caught you off guard. Are they really going all military here? Their loud banter is starting to draw attention to your corner.
“Do Marines get tattoos like that?” you asked to no one in particular, genuinely curious.
Player 001, who had been observing quietly, spoke up. “It’s not officially required. But for many in the ROKMC, getting the tattoo is a tradition.”
You nodded your head in understanding. “Oh.”
Dae-ho, still stiff in his stance, screamed, “Yes, sir!”
Jung-bae laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Class 746 here. Let’s make a good team.”
“I won’t let you down, sir!” Dae-ho barked back, standing straighter.
Jung-bae guffawed, patting him on the shoulder again, earning another resounding “yes, sir!” from Dae-ho. The exchange repeated a few more times, each louder than the last. You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the spectacle, while Gi-hun watched them with an expression that screamed secondhand embarrassment.
You turned away from the comedic display of Jung-bae and Dae-ho, who seemed more like overenthusiastic military recruits than grown men, and began cleaning up your lunchbox. As you took a sip from your water bottle, you noticed player 001 shifting slightly in his seat nearby.
Lowering the bottle, you glanced over and asked casually, “Have you eaten already?”
Player 001 looked at you for a moment before a warm smile crossed his face. “Yes, I have.”
You nodded, returning his smile. “Good. The food they prepared for us was worth it. It’s a waste not to eat it.”
Turning toward Gi-hun, you pointedly glanced at his untouched lunchbox. “You need to eat, sir. It’s better to mull things over with a full stomach.”
Gi-hun hesitated, meeting your gaze briefly before nodding. He opened his lunchbox without a word and began to eat.
After a brief pause, you leaned slightly closer to player 001, lowering your voice. “By the way, do you know where the ladies’ restroom is?”
Player 001 gestured toward the door on the right side of the main double doors. “That one there. The other door is for the men.”
“Oh, thanks. Wouldn’t want to get lost and get shot by the guards.”
Player 001’s smile widened. “I’m sure the guards would bring you back here if you are lost.”
You chuckled softly. “That’s comforting to know.”
The exchange put you slightly more at ease, but player 001’s expression soon turned contemplative. “If you don’t mind me asking… why did you come here?”
Your smile faltered for a moment, and you caught Gi-hun turning his head just slightly, clearly eavesdropping. Straightening your posture, you replied with a practiced smile, “I needed the money.”
Player 001 nodded slowly, his gaze steady. “That’s all of us. But if I may say… I’m surprised. A lady like you shouldn’t have to bear the burden of crippling debt.”
You looked away, lowering your gaze to the floor. The practiced calm you had maintained slipped, replaced by a somber expression as his words hit a nerve.
Noticing your change in demeanor, player 001 spoke gently. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”
You shook your head and managed a faint smile.
“It’s fine,” you replied softly. Your gaze stayed on the floor as you added, “The debts are my parents’, actually.”
Player 001 stared at you, his smile fading into something more solemn. Gi-hun, who had been eavesdropping, remained silent, his expression unreadable.
“You motherfucker!”
The shout shattered the quiet, pulling your attention to the other side of the dormitory. A commotion had broken out. MG Coin (player 333) was brawling on the floor with Thanos and his friend (player 124).
With player 124’s help, Thanos delivered a hard punch to player 333. Even as player 333 lay injured on the floor, they didn’t stop. Kicks rained down on him mercilessly while gasps of horror rippled through the watching crowd.
“I lost all that money because of you, fucker,” Thanos snarled, punctuating his words with another vicious kick. “Be grateful and fucking eat what you’re given!”
Despite the violence, no one moved. Players stayed rooted in place, their expressions a mix of fear and disgust. Jung-bae and Dae-ho, sleeves still rolled up with their tattoos visible, simply watched, making no move to intervene.
You sighed in frustration. “Good thing I finished eating. Still, ganging up on him is just unfair.”
Before you could consider stepping in, player 001 stood up. He walked past Jung-bae and Dae-ho with measured steps, heading straight toward the chaos. You rose from your seat instinctively, a mix of concern and suspense building. Gi-hun stood as well, his eyes narrowing as he watched the scene unfold.
“Boys, what are you doing in the middle of mealtime?” player 001’s voice carried as he approached Thanos and player 124. “No fights during mealtime. There are elders present. Mind your manners.”
Thanos and player 124 paused, letting go of player 333. They turned toward player 001, whose calm demeanor seemed to unnerve them. “And two against one? Aren’t you embarrassed?”
Thanos sneered and stepped closer, his posture challenging. “You’re lecturing me when you ended up in this shithole too? Uncle, stop running your mouth and take care of your own damn kids.”
The dormitory fell silent as everyone watched. Player 001 silently asked, “What did you say?”
Thanos leaned in, his tone mocking. “I said save the lecture for your own damn kid—”
Player 001’s hand shot out, gripping Thanos by the neck. The hold wasn’t a full choke, but his thumb pressed into a precise spot that made Thanos stiffen immediately. The calculated grip made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing. And it looked painful.
Thanos’ hands clawed at player 001’s arm, but the older man’s hold didn’t waver. His bravado crumbled under the pressure of the unyielding grip.
Player 124 advanced toward them. “You son of a—”
Before he could finish, player 001 swiftly kicked his shin. Player 124 let out a brief scream, immediately grasping his leg in pain. Without missing a beat, player 001 delivered another kick, sending him sprawling to the floor, clutching his injured shin. The speed of it all left several players gasping in shock.
Player 001 released Thanos’ neck, standing still in the same spot, his posture calm and steady. It was a stark contrast to Thanos and his friend who were already heaving in pain, struggling to recover.
Just as you thought it was over, Thanos stubbornly got up and advanced toward player 001 again. Raising his arm for a punch, he barely got the chance before player 001 landed a precise blow to his chest in the blink of an eye. Thanos doubled over, clutching his chest in visible pain.
“Wait,” Thanos choked out, holding up a hand in surrender.
Player 001, unfazed, grabbed Thanos’ outstretched hand and twisted it. With a calculated move, he brought Thanos down to the floor and delivered two sharp kicks to his chest, sending him sprawling.
Before Thanos could fully process what was happening, player 001 stood over him, gripping his neck once again. His free hand rose, forming a fist poised to strike. The dormitory’s atmosphere turned chillingly tense as everyone held their breath.
“I’m sorry,” Thanos choked out, his voice barely audible.
Player 001’s face remained emotionless, cold and detached. His grip tightened momentarily, making Thanos gasp for air. His purple hair seemed to match the growing discoloration of his face as the players around them watched in stunned silence.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, player 001 let him go. Calmly, he stood up as if nothing had happened. A smattering of applause broke out, quickly growing into full-on clapping and cheers.
“You’re the man!”
“Nice!”
You joined in, clapping in genuine awe of his combat prowess. He had taken down two bullies without breaking a sweat. What is he, really? He must be an expert at something combat-related.
Player 001 looked surprised by the positive reaction. With a small, appreciative nod and a faint smile, he smoothed his hair, clearly a bit embarrassed and shy by the attention.
As he walked back toward your corner, where you and the others were still clapping, Jung-bae leaned over. “What is he?”
“Is he an ex-Marine too?” Dae-ho asked.
You smirked and pointedly remarked, “If he is, you two might want to roll your sleeves down. He actually stopped the bullies, not the tattoos.”
Jung-bae and Dae-ho exchanged sheepish glances before simultaneously fixing their sleeves. They continued clapping enthusiastically for player 001, pretending they hadn’t been called out.
Player 001 returned to your corner, his calm demeanor intact despite the tension moments ago. You, Jung-bae, and Dae-ho couldn’t help but look at him with a mix of amazement and curiosity.
“Sir, that was incredible,” Jung-bae said, his voice tinged with admiration. “Where did you learn to fight like that?”
Dae-ho chimed in, “Seriously, the way you took them down without even breaking a sweat. Are you some kind of martial artist or what?”
Player 001 gave a wide smile. “Let’s just say I’ve picked up a thing or two along the way.”
Jung-bae exchanged a look with Dae-ho, both nodding as if they had just decided player 001 was the coolest person they’d ever met.
“Man of mystery,” Dae-ho muttered appreciatively.
You leaned forward slightly, your gentle tone more concerned. “But you’re not hurt at all, right? You seemed upset.”
Player 001 turned to you and his smile softened. “Not at all. I left and came back the same.”
His composed response only added to the awe emanating from Jung-bae and Dae-ho, who continued to marvel at him. The brief chaos from earlier now felt like a distant memory.
You couldn’t help but grin as you turned to player 001. “You know, I just told them to roll their sleeves down because you were the one who stopped the bullies, not those tattoos.”
Player 001 let out a steady laugh, the sound warm and disarming. Jung-bae and Dae-ho immediately looked embarrassed, glancing at each other before quickly shifting their attention elsewhere.
“Hey, the tattoos still count for something,” Jung-bae muttered, rolling his sleeve back up halfway just to save face.
“Sure they do,” you replied, still smiling as Dae-ho tried to look nonchalant.
The four of you sat back down at the corner. Gi-hun, who had stayed quiet throughout the commotion, gave player 001 a subtle nod of acknowledgment. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a truce of sorts after their earlier disagreement.
Dae-ho, ever the chatterbox, broke the quiet. “So, Mr. 001, you’ve got to teach us some of those moves. What was that neck grip thing? Looked like something out of a spy movie.”
Player 001 gave a faint smile, shaking his head. “It’s just a simple technique. Nothing fancy.”
“Nothing fancy?” Jung-bae scoffed. “You had that guy gasping for air and looking like he was about to cry. If that’s simple, I’d hate to see complicated.”
“I want to learn how to do that too,” you added. “It would be useful to protect myself out there.”
Player 001 replied with a widening smile. “Sure, I could teach you. We just have to focus on winning the next game and leave this place for good. I’ll teach once we’re out of here.”
“Sir, don’t forget about me though,” said Dae-ho. “I want to learn that too.”
Jung-bae chimed in, “Me too.”
Player 001 nodded, “Got it. I’ll teach you three, then.”
The conversation drifted into lighter topics, with Dae-ho recounting an overly dramatic story from his military days that had Jung-bae laughing and shaking his head. Gi-hun stayed mostly quiet, his focus shifting between the group and the room at large.
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NEXT : Chapter 05
PREV : Chapter 03
Story Masterlist
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writtenbysprout · 1 month ago
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Fireworks | Aaron Hotchner x reader
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word count: 2.3k+ pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!BAU!reader tags: mutual pinning, angst and lots and lots of fluff after
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You sighed softly, watching JJ's hopeful expression as she practically bounced with excitement. Her enthusiasm was contagious, but you couldn’t quite muster the same excitement for New Year’s Eve.
"Come on," JJ said as you tried to keep up with her brisk pace as she rushed toward the printer. "Even Hotch is joining."
She grinned, spinning around to face you with a knowing look. "If Hotch can have a little fun, then so can you."
You gave a small chuckle, shaking your head. "I know everyone’s going to be there. It's just… not really my scene."
"But you come to all our team celebrations! Halloween, Christmas—you’re always there."
"That’s different," you argued, keeping pace beside her. "Those are easy. This? New Year’s Eve? It’s... it’s not my holiday. I’ve never really been into the grandiose celebrations and the whole countdown thing."
JJ’s face softened, and she reached out to lightly nudge your shoulder. "But this year, it’s going to be low-key. Just dinner, wine, maybe a little champagne, and fireworks from my balcony. Nothing over the top."
You hesitated for a moment, conflicted. "I don’t know…"
"Come on," JJ said again, her voice gentle. "Think about it. Please?"
You stopped in front of her office, the printer beeping softly beside you both. You sighed and looked down for a moment before meeting her gaze. "Okay, I'tt htink about it."
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The private jet hummed with the quiet buzz of conversation, the steady hum of the engines providing a rhythmic backdrop to the exhaustion that hung in the air. After the intense case they’d just wrapped up, everyone was ready for the upcoming New Year’s Eve party, but the tension of travel and long hours weighed heavy.
You sat by the window, watching the landscape pass by as the others—Derek, JJ, and Emily—milled around, catching up and joking. Hotch sat a little farther away, his face calm, though his posture remained sharp as usual.
Emily leaned in, her voice low but teasing. "Have you decided what to wear yet?"
Before you could respond, JJ gave her an elbow in the ribs. "Come on, Em. Back off a little."
The smile on Emily’s face remained, but her eyes held concern. "I just asked. No need to be defensive."
You sighed softly, leaning back in your seat. "I don’t know if I’m going."
Derek perked up, his expression shifting to confusion. "What? Why?"
"It’s just… not really my scene," you said softly. "Big parties, loud noises, countdowns—it’s not really my thing."
"You’re telling me you don’t want to come out with all of us?" JJ asked, genuinely surprised.
"I didn’t say that," you replied. "It’s just not something I enjoy. Honestly, I’d rather sit this one out. You guys deserve a break, and I don’t want to be the one dragging everyone down."
Derek frowned. "You won’t drag anyone down. We’ll lift you up if anything."
Before the conversation could continue, Hotch’s voice cut through the noise with its usual steady, firm tone. "Enough. Back off," he said, his gaze steady on the group. His tone left no room for argument.
The others fell silent, though you could feel their curiosity, still lingering. The warmth from Hotch’s concern was there, but they respected his decision to step in.
You gave a small nod in acknowledgment, taking a deep breath as you mouthed a 'Thanks' at Hotch.
After Hotch’s intervention, the ride back to the office was subdued. The jet was quiet, everyone visibly exhausted from the case, but the warmth of the team’s presence lingered in the air. Derek had tried to lift your spirits, and while his words were well-meaning, there was still a heaviness you couldn’t shake. Emily offered a sympathetic smile from her seat, while JJ and Rossi sat quietly, content with simply being there without pushing.
As the jet touched down, the tension began to ease slightly, but the unease remained. The drive back to the office was equally quiet, the city lights flashing past the windows in a blur. The conversation was minimal, the team too drained to maintain the usual banter. When you finally arrived, the office stood empty, save for the hum of the overhead lights and the faint sound of your own footsteps echoing softly on the tile floor.
The office was eerily quiet as you returned, the hum of the jet and the chatter of your team now distant memories. The faint buzz of the fluorescent lights overhead was the only sound in the room. You walked toward your desk, your mind still processing the events of the case. Your fingers brushed over the surface as you absentmindedly picked up a few scattered papers, but your gaze kept drifting. It landed on the framed photo of your dad, his image calm and familiar in the corner, but still a haunting presence in moments like this.
Lost in thought, you didn’t hear the door open behind you until you caught a familiar presence. Slowly, you turned, and there he was—Aaron Hotchner. His usual composed expression softened just slightly when he saw you, the weight of his usual stern demeanor lightening, even if only slightly.
"Thanks, for having my back back there," you said quietly, breaking the silence first.
Hotch gave a small nod, his tone steady. "They never know when to stop."
"True," you agreed, offering a small smile. "But we still love them."
"Some more than others," he said with a faint smirk, his voice low enough so you couldn’t quite make out the last part.
"What was that?" you asked, arching an eyebrow.
He shifted slightly, his gaze meeting yours. "I said don’t show up just to please the others," he clarified, his voice softer now, the humor behind his words subdued.
You exhaled softly, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. "Thanks. I was kinda feeling like I have to go."
"You shouldn’t," he said gently, his tone quiet but firm. "If you don’t want to go, or if you have someone else to spend your time with, then you should do that instead."
You hesitated, your fingers lingering on the edge of your desk. "I don’t know… it’s hard."
Hotch’s gaze softened even more, his expression warm but still composed. "Holidays are especially hard."
You nodded, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat. "Yeah… you can say that again."
"But you’re not going to be all alone on New Year’s, are you?" he asked softly, his voice laced with subtle concern.
"I was kind of planning on it," you admitted quietly, looking down again, unable to meet his steady gaze.
He paused, as if carefully considering his next words. Then, he spoke softly, leaving the statement open-ended. "If you want company…"
The words hung in the air between you, a quiet offer that wasn’t forced or expected, but there nonetheless. You felt the warmth in his voice, the understanding, and it gave you a sense of relief.
"I might take you up on that," you said finally, meeting his eyes once more.
Hotch gave a small, approving nod, his gaze steady. "You don’t have to decide now."
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The sight of Aaron Hotchner in your kitchen was one you never thought you’d witness. Over the years, you’d grown to know him as a man of discipline, authority, and unwavering professionalism. So the thought of him preparing a secret dinner for New Year’s Eve in nothing but his most lounge-worthy clothes, while you sipped on a glass of red wine seated on the kitchen island, laughing at his attempts at humor, seemed almost surreal.
If someone had told you, two years ago when you first joined the BAU, that your stoic boss would, one day, be cracking jokes while cooking, you would’ve laughed in disbelief. There was no way Hotch would ever let his guard down like this—not in front of anyone, let alone in such a relaxed setting.
Yet, here you were.
He had made a last-minute excuse to JJ, opting to keep you company instead.
The soft hum of The Beatles’ melodies filled the room as Aaron moved around the unfamiliar kitchen, his relaxed demeanor at odds with the precision he usually displayed in the field. He’d noticed your LP collection before and had quietly put on The Beatles album, allowing the gentle tunes to wash over the space.
You’d offered countless times to handle dinner, but tonight he insisted, claiming he wanted to try a new recipe—something he rarely had the chance to experiment with.
So you let him have the space, knowing how much he valued the moments where he could step away from the rigidity of his usual responsibilities. The dinner he prepared was unexpectedly perfect—flavors balanced, every dish meticulously crafted—and afterward, the two of you found yourselves sitting comfortably on the couch, lost in easy conversation.
As the evening wore on, the clock edged closer to midnight, and the weight of the holiday settled in your chest. You tried to push it aside, but the memory of past New Year’s celebrations with your dad crept up on you. The first year without him felt like a gaping absence, and despite Aaron’s presence, the sadness was overwhelming.
A single tear slipped down your cheek, your gaze falling back to the family portrait on the shelf—a snapshot of a moment frozen in time with your dad, the man who had always been your rock, your best friend, the one who had always watched fireworks with you.
Aaron returned from the bathroom, his eyes meeting yours. The lighthearted mood in the room shifted as he saw the tear sliding down your face.
"Hey," he said softly, concern clouding his usually composed expression. "Do you want a hug?"
You nod immediately, your breath catching in your throat as Aaron pulls you into his steady embrace. For a moment, the world seems to pause—everything fades away except for the comfort of his arms around you. The floodgates open, and the words pour out, each memory, each longing spilling into the quiet space between you.
"It’s the first year without him," you whisper, your voice shaky with emotion. "We always used to watch the fireworks together." A soft, bittersweet smile tugs at your lips as you remember the times you would sit on the roof of your childhood home, sneaking out through the window in your old bedroom to watch the sky light up with vibrant colors. "We’d sit there, just the two of us, watching the sky erupt into every color imaginable."
Aaron holds you tightly, his presence grounding. He doesn’t rush you, allowing the silence to stretch between you as you collect yourself. The weight of the moment is palpable, but his steady embrace offers a sense of peace that you hadn’t realized you needed.
"It’s not too late…"
You pull back slightly, frowning in confusion. "Too late for what?"
"To do the tradition," he says softly, his voice calm and reassuring.
You blink up at him, still trying to process his words. "What tradition?"
"Do you trust me?" he asks, his gaze steady and unyielding.
With my life, you want to say, but instead you hesitate for a second, your heart beating a little faster, but a warm smile spreads across your face. "Yeah."
Aaron gives a small nod, leading you gently towards your bedroom. Moments later, you emerge in a simple outfit, ready to follow his quiet guidance.
Together, you make your way to the rooftop of your building. The city sprawls below, lights twinkling in the distance, but up here, it’s quiet, private. There’s no one else in sight. The fireworks begin to burst in the sky, dazzling colors lighting up the night.
The city hums below, but the roof is still, just the two of you standing side by side as the world around you is illuminated in bursts of reds, blues, and golden hues.
You turn to Aaron, the warmth of the moment filling the air between you. He watches you closely, a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Your breath hitches as a tear slips down your cheek, and without thinking, you press your lips softly against his shoulder in a wordless thank you.
Aaron doesn’t flinch, simply holds you a little tighter.
"Any other traditions?" he asks softly, breaking the quiet that surrounds you.
You take a deep breath, recalling a memory you hadn’t fully shared with anyone in years. "He’d always kiss me on the forehead at midnight. That was my New Year’s kiss." You let out a small, wistful laugh despite the tears that blur your vision. "Then, he’d walk over and kiss my mom. It was their thing." You pause, the sadness creeping in again. "He was heartbroken when she passed, but he kept the tradition alive for me. Even though… it meant I never had a real New Year’s kiss."
Aaron listens carefully, the weight of your words settling between you like an unspoken understanding.
"Ever?" he asks gently.
You shake your head, your voice barely above a whisper. "Ever."
For a moment, you both stand there, the quiet moment wrapping around you. Then, Aaron’s voice cuts through the stillness, steady and firm.
"Would you want one?"
You look up, your eyes meeting his, the moment shifting. It isn’t just a simple question anymore—it’s more. You realize that this isn’t just about tradition or comfort; this is something deeper. He’s offering something more personal, more vulnerable, and that thought leaves you breathless.
You nod slowly. "Yes," you breathe out, the weight of the moment sinking into your heart.
Without hesitation, he leans in, his lips brushing gently against yours. The world melts away in that single moment—no fireworks, no city sounds, just the two of you sharing something tender and meaningful. When the kiss ends, you rest your head against his shoulder again, the weight of the night finally lifting.
"Thank you," you whisper once more, your voice filled with emotion.
Aaron wraps his arm around you, holding you close as the city fireworks continue their display, but for you, everything feels different. It’s not about the grand celebration—it’s about the quiet, personal connection you share, the solace found in the smallest gestures.
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just-dreaming-marvel · 1 month ago
Text
Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 51
LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST
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< previous chapter
Word Count: 3,290ish
Summary: Your group goes to fight Cassandra.
Notes: Here we go! Please share reactions! Please remember to review the timeline posted here.
Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!
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You woke up to Laura cuddled close. Your body was achy, but not as much as your heart. After pressing a kiss to Laura’s head, you slipped out of bed and headed outside. The fresh morning air was crisp against your achy body and the sun was barely revealing itself. You took a deep breath as you tried to wrap your mind around yesterday. A version of Logan had just entered your life and a version of your long dead teammate Wade as well. How were you suppose to deal with this? 
The sight of smoke near the fire pit area caught your attention. You slowly walked over. Your heart clenched as you realized who was knocked out on the log. Logan was sprawled out on the log, one of his arms dangling over the side, still gripping onto a bottle of alcohol. You were honestly confused as to how he could still be on the log. Taking a step forward, you froze as a branch snapped beneath your foot. 
Logan shot up from the log, claws out, as his eyes frantically searched his surroundings. His gaze eventually fell on you and he too froze. You were tense, looking at Logan like you were a child who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Realizing that his claws were out, Logan quickly hid them, hanging his hands by his sides.
“Sorry,” both of you said at the same time.
The tension was thick, both of you could feel it. Your arms wrapped around you as you took a step back, looking down at the ground. It was harder than you thought to look at him and not have him looking back at you the way that your Logan always had.
“Sorry,” you mumbled again. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s fine,” he responded. 
A bout of silence grew between the two of you. Neither of you were able to look at each other in the eye. Logan could hear how your heartbeat was picking up, signaling how nervous you were. He clenched his fists harder to try to calm his own nerves.
“Are you… uh, are you fighting today?” He wondered.
“Yes. Cassandra may have something that will get us home,” you replied. “And I can’t let Laura fight without me.” Logan nodded, letting your answer sink in. “Are you fighting with us?”
“No… Or I wasn’t,” he shook his head. “It’s suicide.”
You shrugged. “A lot of missions are… but I’d rather die fighting.” With a twist of your hand, you relit the fire.
Logan’s brows furrowed when you winced as your hands cooled down. He stepped forward. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. It’s just… weird. Seeing you or not you or I really don’t know.” You shook your head
“I understand.”
“Was there a me in your universe?”
“Yes.”
“And is she…?”
“She’s dead.”
“Oh. I’m sorry… My husband—you—my version of you is dead, too.”
“I heard. It’s the reason Wade came looking for me.” 
Your head tilted in curiosity. “Why?”
Logan sighed, shaking his head. “Ain’t my story.”
“Mom?” You heard Laura call in the distance. “Mom!”
“I should go,” you took a few more steps back, “before Laura gets too worried.” You turned around but before you could get yourself to move, you looked back. “Take care of yourself, Logan.”
Logan’s mouth opened to say something but his mind wouldn’t let him. Instead, he watched you walk away. Was he really going to let you fight again without him trying to protect him? No, you weren’t his version of you, but you were a version. And he knew that he definitely would not forgive himself if you died and he could have prevented it.
~~~
“So, Buttercup,” Wade slipped next to you as you pulled fingerless compression gloves over your hands, “I have to tell you that your husbands’ claws are still extremely useful.”
Your head snapped towards Wade. “What?” 
“Yeah. I dug him up and had to use his sturdy bones to fight off some TVA agents.”
“You did what with my husband’s body?” Your hands formed fists which quickly went up in flames as you took a step towards Wade.
“Hey! Look! Your flames! They are even more spectacular in person, you know? And they—“
Wade didn’t have the chance to finish the thought before you blasted him against the wall with fire.
“Mom!” Laura exclaimed, rushing towards you. “Mom, stop! You can’t—“
“He dug your father up,” your tone was low. A warning. Something that Laura had rarely ever heard. “He used his bones as a weapon.”
Laura’s eyes widened as she looked between Wade and you. She was conflicted. Wade deserved what you wanted to do to him, but Laura couldn’t risk you wearing yourself out already.
“He’s not worth your energy right now,” Laura said, reaching for your arms.
“If it helps, I grabbed these,” Wade offered, pulling out two sets of dog tags from his suit. “I promise I didn’t put them anywhere inappropriate—“
You marched over and ripped them out of his grip. “Don’t think you’re off the hook for this, Wilson,” you threatened. “I will burn you alive.”
“Oh!” He clapped excitedly. “Can’t wait!”
~~~
You were smushed between Gambit and Laura in the middle row of the Honda Odyssey. Elektra was driving with Deadpool beside her and Blade in the back row. Your hand was firmly grasped around the dog tags you had taken back from Wade. The Honda Odyssey sped towards Cassandra’s base that was closed off.
“Ooh! Look at that there!” Gambit exclaimed. “You see them bigger hands come closed. Ain’t not a wanna gettin’ up inside there.”
“Gun!” Blade ordered as he stood up behind you and threw the opening on the roof.
You and Gambit lifted the gun up to Blade, who took it and aimed it at Cassandra’s base.
“Where’s he get that little beauty?” Deadpool wondered.
“That’s Punisher’s AT4,” Elektra explained.
“Which Punisher? There’s been, like, five of them.”
“There’s only been one Blade,” Blade commented, “and there’s only ever gonna be one Blade.”
Blade fired the weapon. It hit the large, closed skeleton hands, causing an explosion. Elektra sped the van up. When the van neared the fire, you prevented it from doing any harm to your group. As soon as the van was past it, you enlarged the flames, blocking everyone inside of the base. Elektra threw the van into park, bringing it to a screeching halt. 
Cassandra’s minions aimed their weapons at your group as you all exited the van. Deadpool and Gambit stood in front with Elektra, Blade, Laura, and then yourself. The van’s trunk opening caught all of your attentions. Turning to look, you saw Logan exit the van, having been hiding back there. Logan’s eyes met Laura’s first, who gave him a small smile before they flickered to yours. You were surprised to see him. He gave you a small nod before standing beside you.
“Ooh, this is gonna be good,” Blade commented.
“You know how long I’ve been waiting for this?” Gambit added. “Whoo! I’m about to make a name for myself here.”
“I don’t think you guys walk away from this,” Logan said, sparing another glance at you.
“You just make sure people know what happened here today. And when you get out of here, you have a drink for me, yeah?”
“You just stay on our six and get inside,” Blade ordered, moving to the front. You, Laura, and Elektra moved with him. “We’ll make sure you get the package.”
“And we’ll get our ending,” add Elektra.
You reached over and gave Laura’s hand a squeeze before making flames out of your fists. Laura slipped on her old purple glasses. Logan watched the interaction with a pang of jealousy. Your Logan was a lucky man, to have a wife and daughter who stick together no matter what. Too bad that this Logan believed he had ruined his chances of that long ago. 
You took a deep breath as you stared at Juggernaut, who was front and center, leading Cassandra’s minions. Everyone readied their weapons and Cassandra’s minions charged. The five of you took the front lines while Logan and Wade remained behind you. As Logan caught glimpses of you fighting, he began to realize how much he really couldn’t afford to lose another one of you. Not because of him. He stuck behind you, defending you from those trying to take you out. You knew that Logan was sticking close to you, so you made sure to try harder to defend him. Pushing aside the pain that was gradually getting worse, you continued to fight, using your fire to end people before they had the chance to get too close.
Eventually, you broke through Cassandra’s defenses. Logan and Wade rushed further into the base while the rest of you lined up in front of the opening. You still needed to get Juggernaut’s helmet and fast.
Meanwhile, inside the base, Logan and Wade found Cassandra lounging on her throne, drinking tea.
“You two escaping, I could live with,” she said as the two men came closer. “But coming back? Willingly?” She chuckled. “Boys are so silly.”
“I just need to get home,” Wade said.
“Well, that’s not on the menu, I’m afraid.” She set down her tea. “It’s death or enslavement. A la carte, of course.” She stood up and used her powers to throw Wade up against the ceiling. “Upsy-daisy.” She threw him back down, twisted him around, before tossing him against one of the side walls. “Finally, it’s nice to give someone else a chance to talk.” She moved closer to Logan.
“Not my strong suit,” he responded. 
Logan’s claws extended and he tried to throw a punch, only to be stopped. Cassandra forced his claws into his thighs before forcing him to the ground, keeping his claws in the floorboards. He grunted and groaned as he tried to free himself, but it was no use.
“Now,” Cassandra crouched in front of Logan, “we just need your counterpart.”
She smirked as Logan continued straining against her hold. Walking over to the eye holes that allowed her to see the fight, Cassandra caught sight of you. With a quick movement, she had you tangled up in netting and flying up to her.
“No! Mom!” Laura shouted.
You were about to set the netting on fire when you gasped. You could feel Cassandra in your mind, preventing you from doing anything. She threw you harshly in front of Logan, who was growing angrier. 
“There we go,” Cassandra commented, “much better.” She knelt down between the two of you. “You both are very interesting. Deadpools are a dime a dozen here in the The Void. But the two of you… Are extremely rare.” Her long fingers moved to caress your face.
“Don’t touch her!” Logan barked.
“Interesting. She’s not your Ember yet you are protective of her. Let’s see why, shall we?”
Cassandra pushed a finger into your forehead, causing you to scream, whilst doing the same to Logan. He screamed out, hating himself for not being able to protect you properly. Failing another one of you.
Both of your minds connected and glimpses of your Logan played out in front of you. Before you could say anything about it, your surroundings changed. You and Logan were standing in a field. The sky was grey. An endless row of stone monuments where lined near you. Slowly, you and Logan walked forward.
“Logan!” You heard an echo of a voice. Jean.
“Logan!” Another one. Charles.
“Logan!” This one had you tensing. It was your voice, though you knew it wasn’t you.
“Interesting…” Cassandra commented, her voice echoing around. “Not what I expected back here. Behind the anger.” 
Cassandra suddenly appeared from behind one of the stone monuments. Logan stopped, hand on the monument to keep himself up. You stood there, not knowing what to do.
“You’re hiding,” Cassandra continued. “From them. From all the ones you let down.” 
Logan let out a deep breath, leaning forward so his hands were on his knees. You reached out and placed a hand on his back, trying to comfort him in some way, and he collapsed to his knees.
“So much pain,” Cassandra noted.
“I walked away,” Logan stated, growing emotional. “They called after me… She called after me and I… I walked away. I always do.”
“Logan!” The voice of his you echoed around again.
“I know,” Cassandra said. She knelt beside you. Logan’s breathing increased as he looked forward, unable to look at you. “That’s not all you did. Is it? You found them. The X-Men.”
Screams sounded in the distance. You remained standing at Logan’s side, hand on his back.
“Dead,” Logan murmured. “Piled like wood… She was…” He closed his eyes and a tear rolled down his cheek. “Beast had clearly tried but she was… dead… her smoke and flames everywhere.”
“What did you do?” Cassandra asked.
“I started killing. And I couldn’t stop. I didn’t wanna stop.”
“All those bad men.”
“It’s not just the bad ones.”
“My little animal.” Cassandra’s smile had your stomach tied in knots.
“And I turned the whole world against the X-Men… Just once… I wanna be the man that Charles thought I was… That she thought I was.”
“Logan… in The Void, you can be what you are.”
“I just wanna be free.”
“I can set you free. I can silence all those voices.”
“No,” you finally spoke up. You knelt down in front of Logan and shakily took his face in your hands. “You cannot forget where you came from. You who are… Trust me. It’s not worth it.”
“Don’t listen to her.” Cassandra cut off your ability to speak and forced your hands away from Logan’s face. The area around you grew eerily silent. “I’ve got you. She’s not your Ember. You don’t need to worry about her. I’ve got you.”
“No,” Logan’s breathed out shaking his head as he looked over at Cassandra. “I got you.”
Before you knew it, Cassandra cried out in pain and you were back in Cassandra’s base. Wade had Juggernaut’s helmet on her and had her wrapped him in his limbs to keep it there as she fought. Logan pulled his claws from the floor and quickly cut through the netting you were bound in.
“Are you alright?” He asked, helping you to your feet.
You nodded, catching your breath. “I’m fine.”
“Get it off!” Cassandra grunted. 
“You’re gonna send us home, or I’m gonna twist your fucking head off,” Wade threatened. Cassandra laughed. “Why are you laughing?”
“I can’t send you home unless you get this thing off my head. And as soon as you do that, I’m going to force Y/N to boil your brains on an atomic level whilst I flick my bean to the Enya box set.” Logan took a protective step in front of you.
“There’s an Enya box set?”
“Either you kill me or I kill you. Both wonderful options. Except for the fact that I’m the only one that can help with Y/N’s fire problem.” Wade and Logan’s heads snapped in your direction.
“What?” You breathed out.
“Kill me and you are killing her.”
Logan took a step closer to you. “What is she talking about?” He asked.
You shook your head. “I’m fine,” you told him. 
But Logan’s eyes scanned your body, how tense you were compared to earlier, how you were standing in a way that kept your weight evenly distributed. How he had noticed you wincing from the simplest use of your power. There was something wrong.
“Just end this,” you said. “Get home and end this.”
“Do you want me to do it?” Wade asked Logan.
Logan stared at you for a moment, clearly weighing his options. Your determined look gave him his answer. “No,” he responded, eyes falling back on Cassandra. “I’ll do it.”
“I have her neck right here. It’s really no problem.”
“You’ll screw it up.”
“Oh, come on, Mr. PG-13, except the last one!”
A gun shot suddenly sounded from behind. Logan grabbed you and threw you to the ground, him on top of you, as the shots continued. Each bullet landing in Cassandra.
“What the fuck?!” Wade exclaimed.
You looked over at the person who was shooting, recognizing who it was. “Pyro?” You questioned.
“Hello, Ember,” he greeted. “Never thought I’d see you again. You have no idea what it’s like!” He waltzed further into the room as Logan helped you back up to your feet. “Day after day. Shovel the shit. Fetch the meats. I have spent my entire exis—“ Logan threw a punch to Pyro’s face, knocking him out.
“Not everyone gets a speech,” Logan said. His focus turned back to Wade and Cassandra, who had blood coming out of her mouth. “She’s gonna die.”
“Okay. Hey, hey,” Wade said. “If I take this helmet off, do you promise you won’t kill us?”
“Fuck!”
“I promise,” Cassandra whimpered in pain, “I will kill you first thing.”
“Oh! What are you like this?” Wade exclaimed.
“I wish I knew,” Cassandra laughed.
“Take it off,” Logan ordered.
“What?” Wade questioned.
“Take it off.”
“Why?”
“Just take it off.”
“This is our only chance to fix our shit!”
“Take it off!” Logan stepped closer. “I am wearing this suit. And that means a lot of things, but most of all… it means I’m an X-Man.” Pride swelled in your chest, now knowing how hard it was for Logan to admit that. “And I know your brother. As much as I want to fucking kill you, every bone in my body wants to fucking kill you, he would not let me stand here and watch you die! She,” he threw his arm back and pointed at you, “would not let me stand here and watch you die! Take your hands off. This is for him. This is for Charles.” 
Logan slowly removed the helmet. Cassandra was panting as she closed her eyes to feel her powers again. Wade let her go and stepped back. Her hand shot out to Wade and he covered his head.
“Hey, no, no, no!” He exclaimed. “Don’t you dare do me like Johnny!”
Cassandra lowered her arm and looked at Logan. “My brother loved you,” she said. “In every universe, he loved you.”
“He loved all of us,” Logan replied. 
“Hmm. Must be nice.”
“He would’ve loved you, too.”
“Yes, he would have,” you agreed. “So much.”
“If he knew about you… If he knew where you were, he would’ve torn a hole in the fucking universe to bring you home.”
“This is my home,” said Cassandra.
“Well, then at least let us save his.”
She looked over at Wade before stepping away from Logan. “You want to hear something crazy? An amateur magician rolled through here a while back. I killed him, of course. Wore his skin around for four days. But I found this,” she pulled a ring out from her pocket, “little trinket on his lovely fingers.”
“Strange!” Wade whispered.
Cassandra slipped the ring onto her fingers and lifted her hand up. Her other hand moved in a circle and a sparkling golden circle formed.
“What’s that?” Logan asked.
“This is your way home,” Cassandra said as the portal completed itself. “I do owe you for saving my life. But let’s keep things interesting.” She spun back around. “I’d say you have about four seconds before you’re Alioth’s food.”
The large purple cloud, Alioth, was racing towards the base.
“Haha,” Wade chuckled. “Race ya.”
You stood there as you watched Logan and Wade racing towards the circle and disappear into it.
next chapter >
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inbloomwriting · 8 months ago
Text
Everything to me - Chapter 2
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Chapter two - Blueberry & Kidney Bean
Chapter 1
Plot: Jamie Tartt is a lot of things: professional footballer, the island's top scorer .... sexually, extremly handsome. But one thing he never saw himself as was a dad. Too bad he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. This fic follows reader and Jamie as they navigate life and turn from practially strangers to parents. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Pregnancy, swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, slight mention of sexual intimacy (nothing graphic), strained/toxic parental relationship Notes: 5.6k words. I do not have a set uploading schedule. Please bear with me as I work on this story. I know hardly anything about pregnancy, all my information comes from google. I tagged everyone who asked me to do it when I posted part 1. Please let me know if you want to be taken off or added to the taglist. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please
The store smells like dust and cardboard and old carpet. It's not necessarily a bad smell, it just doesn't live up to her memories.
She remembers the perpetual scent of menthol cigarettes and some kind of cheap men's perfume wafting through the air. The store used to smell like her dad and now it doesn't. And that just makes it all even more real.
Boxes upon boxes litter the room, filled with records. Some older, some newer. Guitars adorn one wall while the others are covered in posters from tours that happened long ago, some even before she was born.
There is something comforting about being here. It’s like stepping back into the past. Long nights watching Dad and his friends play their guitars after store-closing. Discovering new bands whenever a new shipment of records came in. And yes - she is the first to admit that in her younger years, she mostly chose the records by how cool the cover looked. 
It’s also memories of Dad getting caught up in the after-hours jam sessions and forgetting about her dance recital and that one time he threw a guitar at the window out of anger that a shipment of records got lost. It took him months to get the window replaced. She could probably still trace exactly where the crack used to be. 
Being here is very reminiscent in all the good and bad ways. But it’s a warped version of the past. One that’s laced with all the knowledge she has now. Like a movie that you’ve seen a million times.
“I don’t think pregnant women are supposed to be doing that!” 
Jamie’s voice cuts through the nostalgia-induced fog like a sunbeam through the clouds. And it also gives her a little heart attack as the only sound filling the room up until now had been her moving around and the soft tunes of an Eric Clapton record playing in the background.
“Jesus fuck! You scared me. I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to startle pregnant women either and give them heart attacks.” 
He looks at her with those big expressive eyes of his and a comically overdone pout on his lips. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. But seriously give me that.” 
He’s so quick to take the box of records from her hands (Y/N) hardly has time to process what’s going on. 
Quite honestly, his worry is a bit misplaced here but she appreciates the sentiment even if he might be a little overly cautious at that moment. It feels nice to be cared for. 
“You know I’m pregnant, not sick, right? I can carry stuff.” 
“Yeah but why would you if you got me carrying it for you?” 
He has a point, she has to give him that. 
“Fair enough. Those go over there in the corner please.” 
Jamie follows her order without hesitation and, after setting the box down in its designated place, his eyes dart across the room and light up with childlike wonder and curiosity.
“This used to be your dad’s place, yeah? It looks really neat with all them posters and shit. Like stepping into an old person’s mind but like a cool old person that buys you alcohol when you’re 15 and lets you watch horror movies when your mum said no.” 
Of all the adjectives in the world, (Y/N) wouldn’t ever think of using the word “cool” to describe her dad. He was creative and fun and eccentric and stubborn — but cool? 
Then again he was her dad and no one ever likes to think of their own parents as cool. Oh god, will their kid think she’s uncool?! 
“Uh yeah, the shop and the apartment right above us. He owned it, now I do. I’m trying to get it all fixed up and ready to be sold.”
“What? Why?” 
There is something to be said about Jamie’s face and his absolute inability to mask his emotions. Everything he thinks and feels is mirrored twice as vividly on his face. He’s all furrowed brows and pouty lips. 
“I mean — it’s a record store. People don’t really buy records anymore. Be honest, when was the last time you bought one instead of just streaming the music?” 
“Like two weeks ago.” 
“Fuck off, no you didn’t!” 
“Uh — yeah, I did. Olivia Rodrigo if you must know.” 
A soft giggle falls from (Y/N)’s lips. How fitting for Jamie to buy an album full of teenage angst. 
“Well, you’re one of very few people though. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have to sell. I’d keep it open. Instead of selling instruments, it’d turn that part of the shop into a little stage with a coffee counter or a bar. Host open mic nights and shine a spotlight on undiscovered artists. But the world isn’t perfect and there is no way I can afford to turn that vision into reality so really there’s no use in letting myself get too caught up in it.” 
There is pity in his eyes and she hates it. She doesn’t want pity, not his or anyone else’s. Has seen enough of it, especially lately. If she had received just one more “Sorry for your loss” card in the mail from relatives she hadn’t seen in decades, she probably would’ve stabbed a fork in her own eye. Pity does no good to no one. 
“Anyway, Jamie. Not that I don’t enjoy hanging out with you, it’s kind of necessary if we want to get this whole beings-friends-thing right, but uh — what are you doing here?” 
“Jesus, can’t a guy just come around to say hi to his baby? “ 
She thinks the way he says the word “Baby” in his thick accent is surprisingly and undeniably adorable. As if it ends in an “eh” instead of a “y”.
“By the way, they’re as big as a blueberry now.” 
And the way he’s keeping track of the baby's growth gets her right in the heart. For some reason, this seems to come so naturally to him when it all still feels weird and foreign and surreal to her. As if it were happening to someone else and she’s just a mere spectator. The idea that something as small as a blueberry will one day turn into a proper baby, a child, a teenager … a whole ass adult - is so wild to her. Almost incomprehensible. A person with their own feelings and dreams and personality. (Y/N) wonders if at any point in this pregnancy, she'll wake up and it'll all just make sense or if that only comes once she's holding the baby in her arms.
“That's cute. Doesn't answer my question though. What brings you here?”
A shadow of something flickers across Jamie’s face. Something unreadable and unfamiliar. Something that makes (Y/N) feel a sense of dread bubbling up in her stomach.
“I uh — I can’t do this.”
And there it is. That unfamiliar shadow is now a metaphorical atom bomb, a mushroom cloud of all that could have been and won’t be.
“Oh okay. I mean no, not okay. This sucks actually. You said you wanted to be part of the baby’s life and now you’re bailing? That’s a shit move, Jamie. You’re a right prick for pulling that crap.” 
“What? Oh no!” his eyes widen as the realization sets in. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Well then what did you mean? Cause you’re truly giving me a heart attack right now. Second one for today. You really need to start working on your conversation starters.” 
She had given him the chance to opt out of being a dad, to not be a part of the baby’s life. It seemed like the right thing to do and, foolishly, (Y/N) had believed that she’d be okay with him doing just that. In this very moment though, she feels everything but okay. The idea of Jamie changing his mind is terrifying. 
Sometimes you don’t realize just how much you need something — or someone until you’re faced with the possibility of losing them.
“I mean, I can’t do this alone. I need to tell someone. All I keep thinking about is the baby and I feel like I am going to explode any second now. I know we can’t tell everyone yet ‘cause of — well you know, things going wrong and stuff. But I need to tell someone. You got to tell Rebecca and your mum, I think it’s only fair I get to tell two people as well, yeah?”
A sense of relief floods her. Starts in her toes and fills her all the way to the top of her head. He wants this — wants the baby. It’s not just her in this. It’s nice to know you have someone in your corner. It’s also scary. Because he deserves to know just whose team he’s on. And being vulnerable fucking sucks. 
“Jamie, that’s fine. Absolutely you can tell your mum.” 
“And Simon? You got two people so — “
“I didn’t though.” 
“Uh yes, you did. I know you told Rebecca.” 
“That’s right.”
“And your mum too”.
The silence that follows his words is deafening. Being vulnerable means also admitting guilt. It means owning up to all of your mistakes. Though we are not the sum of our mistakes, they are what help shape the person we become. And (Y/N) really doesn’t think they make her a very good one.
“And your mum too?” 
More silence.
“You didn’t tell your mum? Why not? “
To his credit, Jamie looks truly surprised and confused. There is no judgment there, just absolute bewilderment and that signature softness that rounds out his features and settles in his eyes whenever Jamie talks to her about something serious. Granted they’ve not had that many conversations but she hopes that softness stays. She hopes that maybe their baby can have those soft, gentle eyes too.
“I’m not sure. I think I’m scared. My mum and I have a — complicated relationship. I disappoint her, she judges me. You know, the usual.” 
“You think she’ll be disappointed because we're having a baby? Is it because of me?”
(Y/N) shrugs, breaking eye contact and fixing her gaze on the old grey carpet with the ugly 90s pattern. What if those soft eyes can look straight through her, see all the ugly parts and the insecurities? That’s too scary for now. Too much too soon.
“No, it has nothing to do with you. Think she’ll just be disappointed I didn’t get pregnant according to the timeline she dreamed up for my life when I was like 2 years old. Had it all planned out for me and I never stuck to it.” 
Jamie is quiet for a moment but (Y/N) doesn’t dare to look back up at him. She can’t deal with any more pity.
“Well if you want to practice telling a mum, we can start with mine.”
“Huh?” 
“You can come to Manchester with me if you want. To tell my mum. We’ll have one mum down then, makes it easier to do it a second time. It’s science.” 
Jamie has the fascinating quality of making you believe in his words just by being so undeniably charming and because he believes in them himself. He makes it look easy when it is everything but.
“And if things don’t go well with your mum at least you’ll know you have at least one mum you can rely on, even if it’s not your own. She raised me pretty much by herself so she knows a thing or two about babies and parenting and stuff.” 
The mocking raise of (Y/N)’s right eyebrow doesn’t go unnoticed by Jamie who opens his lips to a silent gasp and clutches his chest with an overly dramatic gesture. 
“What? You saying I didn’t turn out perfectly?”
“No,” she laughs, a lightness festering in her chest. Like the first rays of sunshine after a cold winter that never seemed to end. Like a glass of wine after a long day at work. Like your favorite song on the radio at the exact moment you need it most. “I think you turned out exactly the way you were supposed to.” 
“Thanks,” Jamie says with that cheeky smile playing on his lips that makes him look a little younger than he actually is. Then he dares to wink at her and it’s a little annoying but also insanely charming. “Not sure you meant it as a compliment but I am taking it. Now when are you free for a trip up to Manchester?” 
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(Y/N)’s been on a lot of road trips around the country when she was younger. She’s even spent a whole summer traveling Europe, partially by train but most of the time was spent stuffed in a Fiat Punto with 3 of her friends and all their luggage. It was stuffy, it was chaotic and it was immensely fun. None of those road trips ever involved a shiny black Aston Martin Rapide though. 
Or a famous footballer dressed in the ugliest lime green sweater (Y/N) has ever seen. 
“That’s all the luggage you got?” Jamie questions as he moves the black shades off of his eyes and sets them on the top of his head, holding back some of his hair. It shouldn’t work so well but it does. 
“I mean, we’re only staying for a night right? Why? Should I have brought more? How much did you pack?” 
He glances at her, then towards the car, and back at her. A sheepish look crosses his face before being replaced by his childlike cheekiness. “That’s confidential. Don’t worry about it, yeah?” 
“I got my ginger lollies, that’s all that matters really.” 
“You feeling alright?” 
“Mh, I’m good. Just pregnant.” 
His eyes drop down to her stomach for just a second before he nods his head in what (Y/N) can only describe as a mix of pride and satisfaction. “Yeah, you are.” 
That’s new. Well not new-new but it hasn’t happened since the day of the funeral. That tingly feeling in her stomach that has fuck all to do with the baby and everything with how the baby got there. Yes, Jamie is hot and (Y/N) is the first to admit as much but there has been so much stress and chaos and she hardly had time to think about anything but surviving and making sure not to completely lose herself in bad visions of what-ifs that her brain has had no time to process any feelings of arousal or lust. That look he just gave her though, that one made her remember it for just a second.
“You sure you’re alright?” 
Jamie’s voice shakes her from her daydream and brings her back to the real world, her eyes focusing back on the obscene car parked in front of her tiny apartment building looking so insanely out of place.
“Uh yes, I’m fine. I just — sometimes I forget that you’re famous.” 
Jamie regards her for a moment before shrugging his shoulder and grabbing the bag from her hands. “I don’t. It’s fun. Now come on, let’s goooooo.” 
His voice is dipped in excitement and there’s a bounce in his step. If this is how the prospect of seeing his mother makes him feel and behave, she must be one lovely woman. Whenever (Y/N) thinks of her own mother her chest fills with tiny metaphorical icicles. Sharp and rough and painful. It’s all regret and judgment and disapproval. It’s “You gained weight”, “you look tired”, and “You should really look into getting a new job”. Daggers disguised as roses. Stabs right to the heart in the name of being honest. “I just care about you, because I love you, because I am your mother!” 
If there is one thing (Y/N) knows for sure, it’s that she will never ever find the need to resort to criticism and thinly veiled malice in order to show her child that she cares. They will know. Every single day. Because she’ll make sure to show them. Every single day in all the big and tiny ways a person can show their love. 
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“Kidney Bean?”
“Kidney Bean. And apparently, the baby is sprouting webbed fingers and toes right now. Oh, and it’s starting to move!” 
“Can you feel that?” 
“No, not yet.” 
“It’s mental. Last week she was the size of a blueberry and now she’s a kidney bean. Kid’s growing up too fast.” 
It’s true. There is so much happening all at once and it’s almost impossible to really process it all. Suddenly there is a tiny spark of a human inside her. Not really a baby yet but a baby to her. And it's moving and developing and changing every second of every day. Fucking insane.
“Wait … you said she. You think it’s a girl?”
Maybe it’s the sunlight casting a glow through the windshield but (Y/N) is almost certain she can just about make out a blush dusting Jamie’s cheeks. 
“Dunno.”
“Jamie Tartt, do you want to be a girl dad?” 
He glances at (Y/N) through the corner of his eyes for just a moment but it’s enough for her to see the sincerity in him. This is something he’s thought about before. Learning new things about Jamie is fascinating.
“Ah,  it’s stupid, really. It’s — It’s dumb or whatever.” 
“No, come on, don't go shy on me now. Tell me.” 
He takes a deep breath. A moment passes then another. There is no rush. Sometimes silly thoughts are the result of harsh truths. 
“Told you my dad was a prick. Like the biggest piece of shit walking this earth, yeah? And I knew that all my life. Thing is I still tried to impress him. I just — I wanted him to like me so badly. Just felt wrong that me own dad didn’t care about me and that made me angry. And I kept that anger inside me for so long. Sometimes when I think about the baby and the future I am scared that if I have a son that anger will jump over to him. Like maybe all Tartt men are cursed or some shit like that. But if I had a little girl maybe that would make it easier for me to be a good dad. I don’t mind either way, obviously, but the idea of having a son scares me.” 
It’s the most vulnerable he’s been with her so far and by the way he clenches his jaw and grabs onto the steering wheel just a little tighter, (Y/N) can tell this isn’t easy on him. It means a lot that he shares this part of him with her anyway. It feels like they are actually becoming friends. So opening up to him in return is only half as horrifying. 
“When I was a kid, maybe 11 or 12, I wrote a short story for school and I won an award. They did this big ceremony thing where the 3 finalists got to read their stories out loud for an audience and then receive their prizes. My mum didn’t show up, not sure if it was because she stayed longer at the office and didn’t care enough to leave on time or if she just didn’t feel like getting out of the house. Point is, she wasn’t there. When I came home that night I was sad, obviously, and I was also pissed. Because why the fuck couldn’t she take one night off to come see me succeed at something even if it wasn’t something she deemed worthy of praise. 
So I yelled at her and I’m sure I said some hurtful things. But I was so devastated and angry and I needed an outlet for once. She called me ungrateful but I was used to that, she always called me ungrateful. Then she looked at me with that look of absolute resignation and malice and she said that she hopes I have a daughter like me one day and that she makes me realize how hard it is to love me. 
When I think of the baby, sometimes I see a little girl too. One that I will love so much she never has to doubt it for a single second. And I will also prove my mother wrong. Because it will be so easy to love my little girl and it would’ve been so easy to love me, her little girl.” 
It’s the first time she’s ever said those words out loud. Truly, (Y/N) had not expected for them to come out in an Aston Martin, on the way to meet her baby’s father’s mother but life doesn’t seem to care for plans very much these days.
Softly, as if to not startle her, Jamie places his hand on hers, squeezing gently.
“I think your mum is a right bitch.” 
“Thanks. I think your dad is a huge asshole.” 
“We’re gonna be better than them, right?” 
It’s not really a question. It’s more of a promise.
“We will. I know it.”
His hand doesn’t leave hers for a good long while. 
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The nerves don’t hit her until they pull up to the quaint little house with the white front. There’s a rose bush to the side and some kids playing football just across the way. The nerves don’t hit her until Jamie puts the car in park but when they do, they hit her like a freight train.
“Woah, you alright?” 
“Huh?” 
“You look all pale and like you’ve seen a ghost or something. Do you have to puke?”
A chuckle falls from her lips at the absurdity of it all. In all honesty, she’s not met a lot of parents yet but the few she did meet were parents of actual partners. People she had been dating for a while. It was a natural progression of steps. This is all wrong and sideways and topsy-turvy. You’re supposed to meet the mum first and then get pregnant. 
Again with the life and the plans. 
“I’m fucking nervous.” 
“Hah,” Jamie laughs. The audacity of this guy. “You’re nervous to meet my mum? Why? She’s an angel.”
“Do you not know how intimidating that is? Like, if she was shit I wouldn’t care but she sounds wonderful and I want her to like me. No, I need her to like me. Desperately. And I can only imagine what she thinks of me already. Some floozy who gets knocked up and really just wants your money.” 
Before she even fully realizes what’s happening, (Y/N) feels Jamie’s hands on her cheeks, framing her face in warmth.
“Calm down, please. I promise it’ll be alright. My mum will love you, I know it. Probably more than she loves me. Actually no that’s a lie, but she will love you and she will love our baby. Promise.”
“She’s not gonna judge me for — you know. Getting pregnant even though we’re not dating or anything.” 
“My mum was married to my dad, worst person on planet Earth. Don’t think she’s in any position to judge you. It’ll be alright, trust me.” 
She hardly knows this man and yet she can’t help but do just that. Trust him.
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The first thing (Y/N) notices about Georgie is her smile. A smile that is so familiar because it looks exactly like Jamie’s smile. Warm and radiant and true. A part of (Y/N) hopes that their baby inherits that same smile. Partially because it’s a really good smile and partially because maybe that could help Jamie realize that he is more than the sum of his father’s problems and mistakes. He is all his mother’s boy.
“Oh, I missed you, my baby.” 
Georgie wraps her arms around Jamie’s middle, getting swallowed by his frame for a moment. There’s no denying that part of (Y/N)’s heart breaks a little seeing how loving of a relationship these two have and wondering where she and her own mother went wrong.
And as it so happens with so many kids that have never been loved quite the way they deserved, (Y/N) can’t help but search for the problem in herself. 
“Yeah sorry for not visiting earlier. You know how it is with training and stuff.” 
“Don’t worry about it. I know my boy is busy being a star.” 
The words hold a slight mocking, never mean but in the way that only people who are close can tease each other. You know every word comes laced with deep affection, with pride, with love.
“And it’s so nice to meet you too. I’m Georgie.” 
It takes a second for (Y/N) to realize that Jamie’s mum is now talking to her directly.
“I uh — oh thank you. Nice to meet you too, I’m (Y/N).” 
Georgie smells like mint chewing gum and floral perfume as she pulls (Y/N) into a hug. She’s soft and gentle and it’s been the first hug from a mother (Y/N) has received in quite some time.
“Sorry, didn’t even ask if you’re a hugger.”
“Oh that’s alright, don’t worry about it.” 
She’s not a hugger, never really was, but there is something about Georgie granting her some affection that isn’t all that bad. Maybe their kid can have at least one grandmother who cares and who isn’t completely disgusted by the idea of showing any kind of positive emotions.
“Jamie never brings girlfriends around so I’m a bit out of my element here if I’m being honest.” 
“Mum we’re not — she’s not.” Jamie takes a big breath before starting again “(Y/N) and I are friends, yeah? Told you about it on the phone.” 
“Right, right. Well, you don’t bring around a lot of friends either so same difference, really. Now come inside will you, I’m sure we got a lot to catch up on.”
Oh if only she knew how true that sentiment really is.
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There are pictures of Jamie staring back at (Y/N) from every corner of the house and Georgie leads them through the hallway and towards the kitchen. Every wall and every shelf holds a memory of him at one point in his life. Gap toothed with a football in hand smiling, surrounded by a field of tulips arm wrapped around his mother’s shoulder, his teenage self smoldering at the camera with an even more questionable haircut than the one he is sporting right now. Oh to be loved in a way that every past version of you is being remembered.
As they reach the kitchen a sweet scent fills the room when a man clad in an apron turns around and faces them with a huge smile playing on his face. He has a dorky kind of charm to him that immediately puts you at ease. Maybe it’s just the frilly apron, maybe it’s the big oven gloves, maybe it’s the smile. Either way, (Y/N) thinks that if they take the news well, her kid might have truly lucked out on one side of the grandparents department. 
“Jamie, welcome home.” 
“Hi Simon, thanks, mate. Glad to be back. This is (Y/N).” 
“The friend, right.” Simon says and shoots Georgie a look that neither of them misses. Subtlety doesn’t seem to be one of his best qualities. “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”
“Nice to meet you too. It smells amazing in here.” 
“I found this new recipe for honey blondies. Not sure if they'll be any good but I guess we'll find out. If you guys want to go have a seat, I'll come bring them over.”
“Actually,” Jamie speaks up while nervously fiddling with his hands. “I was hoping we could have a talk before we do anything else. There’s something I need to tell you both.” 
Imagining the hypothetical scenario of telling your mum you’re having a baby and actually doing it really are two completely different things it seems. Gone is all of Jamie’s confidence and replaced with a whole lot of anxiety. 
“You're worrying me, Jamie. What has you acting so serious? Did you get someone pregnant or something?”
Georgie's words are followed by a thick awkward silence. It's heavy and suffocating and it makes (Y/N) feel uneasy in both her heart and her head.
It doesn't take long for Jamie’s parents to realize what his silence means. Everything communicated by not saying a single word.
“Oh, fuck.”
And there's nothing to add to Georgie's reaction. It's the exact same one (Y/N) had when she first saw those faint blue lines.
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Of all the possible outcomes and ways this day could’ve gone, (Y/N) had not expected to find herself staring at not only a curly-haired Roy Kent but also come face to face with two very persuasive arguments belonging to no other than Keeley fucking Jones. 
“This is surreal.” 
The posters stare back at her all crinkled paper and bleached ink, as if to mock her silently. 
“Ah, well I told them to redecorate when I moved out, think they just haven’t gotten around to it yet.” 
A light dusting of pink settles on the apples of Jamie’s cheeks as well as the tips of his ears. This man can’t hide his emotions for the life of him. It’s quite adorable really. 
“Do they know?” 
“Does who know?” 
“Roy and Keeley. Do they know you have their pictures up in your room?”
“Well no and It’s not my room anymore, is it? ‘S not like I have ‘em hanging at home. Put these up ages ago.” 
A giggle slips through (Y/N)’s lips at his desperate attempt to talk himself out of this situation. 
“It’s okay, Jamie. I won’t tell.” 
“There’s nothing to tell, alright?” he responds in mock offense before sitting down on his childhood bed next to (Y/N). “Just liked boobs and football and those two were the best those fields had to offer, yeah? Can’t really blame me.” 
“Not much has changed has it?”
He shrugs his shoulders in response “Nah. Still like boobs and football but no way I’d put up a poster of granddad’s ugly mug nowadays.”
From the few times they talked about his job, including his teammates and coaches, (Y/N) was able to gather that Jamie’s relationship with Roy is something special. Odd, but special. Maybe that’s what happens when you end up working with your childhood idol. Either way, no matter how much shit he likes to talk about him, it’s clear that Jamie respects and admires Roy a great deal still.
“And uh — and Keeley?” 
“What about her?” 
“Is she — are you — how are things?” 
She still remembers that crestfallen look on his face on the day of the funeral. That infinite sadness in his eyes. She hadn’t put two and two together at that moment but later that night it all clicked. Keeley was the woman he was in love with, the woman who did not love him back. And while (Y/N) knows that she and Jamie are only bound together by happenstance and fate — if one chooses to believe in that, and that there is nothing romantic about their situation, it does sting a little to know that the man you’re having a baby with is in love with someone else.
“We’re good. We’re friends, think that’s all we’ll ever be. Her and Roy, they’re happy and I don’t want to ruin it for either of them. Keeley and I just were not right together.” 
“And you’re okay with that?” 
He nods his head, a small smile playing on his lips “Yeah, I’m alright with it. If I hadn’t made a fool of myself at the funeral then you and I wouldn’t have — you know, and then we wouldn’t be having a baby. Little Kidney Bean.” 
“That’s true. Your mum seemed excited.” 
“Hah, sorry about her. She can be intense.” 
Intense might be the understatement of the century. It took her approximately 2.3 seconds to get over the initial shock of the announcement and really process it before Georgie let out a scream of pure excitement and joy and wrapped both Jamie and (Y/N) up in her arms. She didn’t fully let go for a good 20 minutes. It was intense. It was also phenomenal.
“Don’t apologize. I am so glad she took it so well, Simon too. At least now I’ll have the certainty that my baby will have one set of loving grandparents at least.” 
“Hey,” Jamie says and nudges her shoulder with his “We’ll sort out telling your mum next, okay. I’m sure it’ll go better than you think. And if not we can always call up my mum for some more hugs and a pep talk. Whatever happens, you won’t have to do it alone. I promise.” 
For what is probably the first time in her life (Y/N) lets herself believe that there truly is someone else having her back, undisputedly and all the way. It’s unfamiliar. It’s a little scary. It’s also wonderful.
“Thanks, Jamie. I appreciate it, I really do. Think so far we’re doing alright, huh?” 
“I’d say so. Two sexy parents and a little Kidney Bean.” 
Their laughter echoes through Jamie’s childhood bedroom for quite a while longer until at some point it stills and gives room to soft breathing and quiet snores. The bed isn’t meant for two grown adults and really Jamie truly meant to sleep on the couch but somewhere between talks of baby clothes and childhood memories, eyes grew heavy and tired, and soon enough both of them are fast asleep.
Just them and their little Kidney Bean 
— and a curly-haired Roy Kent 
— and Keeley’s boobs.
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taglist (@ me if you want to be taken off or added): @captainfrisbee - @scaramou - @mischiefmanaged71 - @rexorangecouny - @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog - @tweasley20 - @dreamtrydoforkinggood - @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo - @heletsmelovehim - @snubug - @katdahlali - @oldglitterstory - @lalla-04p - @aiyaiy
185 notes · View notes
ariseur · 11 months ago
Note
'Ello luv, it's been a while since I saw someone writing for DMC ugh, miss when dmc(5) was trending... What a good time!
I don't know if your requests are open or not, but catch up with me!! Our pretty girls and boys with a vampire!reader! Or or— A WITCH! BOTH
Like, you choose if it's a bunch of headcanons, blurbs, a full one shot with a character or not, I just really want to see it!
Well, obviously if you can do it honey, if you can't it's fine <3
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dmc crew dating a vampire 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
devil may cry x reader
┊ ˚➶ notes 。˚ 🎼
this was actually my first request on this blog!! i don’t know why i put it off for so long bc it’s literally so cool?? i ended up just doing a vampire instead of witch/vampire witch so i hope you guys enjoy considering my phone crashed trying to copy n paste this from my notes to tumblr 💋
┊ ˚➶ warnings 。˚ 🎼
blood (but in the vampire way ykyk), fangs and mentions of sharp teeth, intended lowercase, kinda spoilers for dmc5 in v’s,
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓓ANTE — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
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❥ you are literally so hot in DANTE’s eyes, you could honestly do no wrong.
❥ i think you guys already know what i’m gonna say..
❥ if you feed on blood or need it for some sort of sustenance, dante will gladly volunteer. he thinks it’s the hottest thing ever.
❥ although, i’m not sure if vampires much like demon blood..
❥ eh, oh well. dante will still think it’s attractive, especially if you have fangs or some sort of sharper canines.
❥ only downside to being a vampire and dating dante is that you’ll occasionally hear a super bad transylvanian accent. like.. really bad.
❥ but!! if you’re also a demon hunter like him— and you have some cool freaky powers like draining blood or energy from empusas or really just any ability that’s useful, it’s heart eyes all around from him.
❥ you could be covered in blood or feasting on something and then you’ll spot dante in the corner wielding devil sword dante after defeating like seventy fuckin other demons and he’s just.. mesmerized.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈ 。゚
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓥ERGIL — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
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❥ VERGIL’s much more curious about your species. do you have any weaknesses? are the fictionalized versions of your kind portrayed accurately? what are you exactly?
❥ luckily he’s a lot more quiet about his curiosity compared to, maybe— nico. his staring is intimidating, though. when he sits with you or near you, he’ll usually just study you. maybe it looks like he’s judging but he’s really just analyzing your appearance. especially if you have any distinctive features.
❥ if you have that dark ruddy aesthetic, he’ll likely admire from afar even if red isn’t exactly his favorite color.
❥ if you really needed it, he’d let you feed off of him although it’s definitely not his first choice. he’s not really a fan of being bitten, especially if you need to bite his neck or something like that.
❥ probably finds some esoteric artistic poem or painting with an underlying meaning of having to do with vampires and thinks of you every time he looks at it.
❥ his gothic poetic side is showing
❥ ugh i just wanna kiss his scowl so bad but i also wanna punch him.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈ 。゚
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓝ERO — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
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❥ nero literally thinks it’s so cool.
❥ he might be a little wary once he first meets you? like are you gonna tackle him rn and sacrifice him with your own lil blood ritual?
❥ but once he finds out you’re docile or that you pick and choose on whom you feed on, he’s like, “oh okay that’s cool”
❥ probably like dante where the only version he knows of vampires are the hollywood adaptations of them. so like.. he’s confused if you can go into sunlight? or you can eat certain foods? or if you can go near churches??
❥ he, too, thinks you’re super hot. however!! very iffy about you drinking blood or feeding in front of him. not like it grosses him out but it’s kinda.. weird to watch for him?? idk.
❥ another thing is that he doesn’t want you biting him at all. he’s like vergil where he’ll be baffled if you even ask, except he’s super hesitant to offer himself unless you’re super injured and in dire need of it.
❥ just step on him to shut him up atp
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈ 。゚
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓥 — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
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❥ V’s goth ass won’t shut up about how divine your species is and how fascinating he finds you.
❥ curious on your feeding habits and what you essentially need to survive, tries to find any and every book that he can about vampires so he can learn about you even more.
❥ he’s like those people who romanticize the 1800s or the salem witch trials or greece or ethel cain or lana del rey while kicking their feet and posting about it. he will find a way to make the situation poetic, trust me.
❥ finds it amusing if you’re annoyed by griffon’s teasing and threaten to eat him first if you were to ever go rogue, you might even be able to get a close mouthed chuckle out of v.
❥ utterly fascinated by just your very being, even if it’s just mundane traits. especially loves to see your fangs, dunno why but they’re just aesthetically pleasing to him.
❥ considering he’s kinda like a deteriorating human that’s basically turning into a husk, i wouldn’t recommend feeding on him unless you plan to kill him—which who would wanna murder our emo bae right here? (capcom)
❥ the type of person to roll his eyes at false folklore and representation because he’s literally in love with an actual vampire?? how dare they portray you like this??
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈ 。゚
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓛ADY — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
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❥ LADY also finds you super hot!!
❥ also interested because she’s probably never seen a vampire outside of media— so it’s a nice change of pace rather than being face to face with demons all day.
❥ despite all this, after the initial introduction, i’m not sure she’d care too hard? like— sure, you’re considered a supernatural being and all that.
❥ and although she thinks it’s super dope, i feel like it wouldn’t matter as much to her. she’s seen and done a lot of things at such a young age, i feel as though she’s almost desensitized?
❥ she’s so badass she can’t even care. she’s literally respected by dante, whom is titled ‘the legendary devil hunter’. (dmc5 did her dirty with her lack of part in the storyline 💔)
❥ she’ll respect any of your needs, and ngl also thinks you biting into her neck is hot.
❥ kinda surprised that you’re able to go out into sunlight even if she’ll never tell you that 😭
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈ 。゚
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓣RISH — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
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❥ another one who doesn’t care that much. it’s not like TRISH is dismissive of your species and where you come from, but she’s literally a full on demon who’s probably seen everything.
❥ you guys r so hot though, like the ultimate power couple.
❥ oh, and if you’re a devil hunter, too? you guys r gonna kick sm ass together. she’ll invite you to roll around with her for a while rather than with dante, although if you’re associated with devil may cry then that’s fine too. she’ll put up with dante’s ass just to visit you more often.
❥ i don’t recommend feeding off of trish?
❥ idk how vampires take to drinking demon blood
❥ but shit, if you have that red aesthetic and are just a total femme fatale (or other gender equivalent to that), trish is in charge of your outfits now.
❥ don’t even fight it, you will end up in the outfit regardless.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈ 。゚
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓝ICO — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
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❥ oh boy
❥ if you’re lucky enough to survive the first meeting with NICO and you end up actually being in a relationship? you are def a trooper.
❥ when you’re first introduced, she bombards you with questions.
❥ where did you come from? do you have powers? are you like a demon and are there more of you? if so, can she harvest parts for a new bio-weapon? do vampires reproduce the same as humans? are you gonna suck her blood??
❥ she’s just a curious lady cut my girl some slack
❥ she thinks you’re so cool though!! wants you to tell her everything you know about vampires so she can log it. even if you’ve been in a long term relationship, she still can’t help but ask more questions.
❥ but!! as cool and hot as she thinks you are— like nero, she does not wanna see you feed and does not wanna be fed on!! (except.. maybe just one time to see how it feels.)
❥ ugh she just loves you sm please indulge her
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379 notes · View notes
joongernaut · 2 years ago
Text
glitter
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⇢ pairing(s): park seonghwa x reader
⇢ genres: childhood friends to almost strangers to lovers, SMUT, fluff, a little angst but literally just a smidge
⇢ warnings: tooth-rotting fluff (i could not help myself with this one), subby-ish seonghwa because we love desperate men around here, oral sex (fem receiving), vaginal sex, cowgirl, reader gets called 'noona' once, creampie (i simply forgot to write in a condom but practice safe sex everyone!)
⇢ word count: 3955
⇢ author's note: well this took a bit longer than expected but i was able to proofread and tie up the loose ends on this fic last night and now here we are! this is also my way of wiggling into writing for ateez more as they are one of my favorite groups 😁 also the song title is based off the song glitter by jamilah barry <3 enjoyyy
“Did you know your little boyfriend is back in town?”
The question stopped you in mid-sip of your cup of tea as you peered over the rim of the mug at your roommate, Hongjoong. He peered back over his own mug with a little smirk on his face and a lift of his eyebrow.
Slowly bringing the mug down you let out a heavy sigh. “Oh, I’ve only heard the news about a hundred times. Kinda hard to forget, y’know,” You bit back with a sarcastic smile, “Also, he was never my boyfriend. Why does everyone keep saying that shit?”
“Hm, I really don't know,” Hongjoong said with a shrug, taking a drawn out sip from his coffee before speaking again, “It’s not like the guy followed you around like a lost puppy before and you let him. Honestly, I’m a little surprised you two didn't tie the knot right after high school, I was so sure you would be childhood sweethearts turned old, disgusting married couple.”
Hongjoong hissed as your foot kicked at his shin from under the table, glaring at him before you finally downed the contents of your mug. “God, you all are so annoying! First, my own family and now you? I don’t care if he’s in town, okay? We haven't talked in like 5 years and I highly doubt that I’d see him anyways. It’s whatever.” You said exasperatedly, chair scraping against the floor as you got up to place the empty mug into the kitchen sink.
“What if you do see him, though?” Hongjoong asked, the question once again catching you off guard. “What if he hasn't forgotten about you in the slightest in those years you two have spent apart?” He pressed on with a pointed look, watching your mouth open and close as you blinked over at him.
Park Seonghwa, from what you recalled years ago, was a very sweet boy.
You remember the first day you had met him, walking into your elementary homeroom class clinging to his mother with a thumb in his mouth and fat tears rolling down his face as he refused to let her go.
You were only 2 years older than him but still had felt the overwhelming need to protect him from any harm. And that's also how you two became close friends.
When Seonghwa would fall down and scrape his knee or elbow, you were there telling him not to cry while dusting him off and helping him get back up. When he wanted to be like the bigger kids, who were taller and strong enough to get on certain parts of the playground, you were there to encourage him and give him a boost. And when his eyes sparkled with curiosity, wanting to learn more about this and that as he gained new interests, you were there to talk and listen to him ramble on and on about anything and everything.
That Seonghwa was the one you hadn’t seen in years. You had been really good friends leading all the way up to high school and then slowly drifted apart during that time. Once college had begun, it was like he dropped off the face of the earth and you didn't hear from him for a while.
It wasn't like you to be stuck on anybody for too long, you watched many people come and go into your life before. But Seonghwa wasn't just anybody and you couldn't help but wonder about the crybaby often and what he had been up to lately.
Okay so maybe you did care just a little bit that he had come back to town. But did it really matter? After all, neither of you really made the effort to reach out to one another after going your separate ways.
You shook your head, pushing those fleeting thoughts away before you reminisced too deeply. “Like I said, I highly doubt it.” You mumbled with a shrug before turning away, a part of you truly doubtful while a sliver of yourself remained hopeful.
You were home alone the very next day. Usually Hongjoong would be the one to stay inside while you were out and about but he had run off to god knows where and he insisted that you stay at the apartment to relax. “Because you deserve it.” He had told you with a wink.
So, naturally, you were suspicious.
Not that Hongjoong was an untrustworthy person or anything but this almost, overly-nice front he had put on since this morning was just a little off-putting. Before you could really begin to question him, he had already flown out of the door and was barely responding to your text messages.
He did make sure to tell you to listen out for the door, however, as he said he was ‘expecting something’. You had almost forgotten about whatever that ‘something’ would be, hours into the afternoon, until you heard the sound of knocking coming from the front door of your apartment.
Dreading on leaving the comfort of your spot on the couch, you heaved a sigh before getting up from your seat and dragged yourself over to the door to answer it. “Hello-” You swung the door open and were immediately greeted by someone's chest in your line of vision. Your eyes traveled upward and you felt your breath catch in your throat.
“Y/N… It’s good to see you again.”
The man before you looked much different from the last time you had seen him. But even with the big and little changes in his appearance and how he seemed to carry himself differently, you could still tell exactly who he was just based on the look in his eyes.
“Seonghwa,” You gaped, still not entirely sure if you were seeing him in front of you or just hallucinating after watching TV all day, “H-How… How did you…?” You trailed off with furrowed brows as he gave you a sheepish look in return.
“Ah, sorry, this is rather impromptu of me. I bumped into Hongjoong a few days ago when I first got back and he mentioned you two were roommates so…” Now it was his turn to trail off as a small blush formed on his cheeks. You mentally cursed at Hongjoong, finally putting the pieces together that he had set this all up. You didn't know whether to kiss him or kill him.
“I see,” You muttered, reminding yourself to shoot the little mastermind a colorfully worded text later, “Well, please, don't be shy. Come in, come in.” You insisted, a smile spreading across your face genuinely as you stepped to the side for him to enter.
Seonghwa smiled back gently, a sight that made your heart soar as you saw a flash of the boy you used to know appear for a split second before he stepped over the threshold.
It had been hours of just talking and catching up with Seonghwa. You had learned that he was finishing up his last year of college soon, reaching to earn his degree in astronomy, and planned to move out of his dorm and into a place of his own nearby. The university he had attended was well out into the city, roughly 8 hours away, meanwhile you had attended your local college in town and graduated with your art degree about a year or so ago.
“Definitely not as cool as studying the stars and planets, though. I’m like the definition of a starving artist.” You chuckled, albeit a bit bitterly, facing Seonghwa as you propped your elbow over the back of the couch and tucked your legs underneath yourself.
Seonghwa had turned to face you as well but a bit awkward in body language, one leg crossed over the other as his hands remained in his lap stiffly. “Ah, it's not all that interesting. Trust me. Once math is involved, then you’ll see what I mean.” He said, earning another laugh from you that made his shoulders less tense and a fond smile spread on his face.
“You were always the artistic type, though. That’s something I’ve always liked and admired about you. Never afraid to be yourself… Just being able to think of something so creatively, from a vastly different perspective than anyone else, and turning it into something so beautiful. That’s always been pretty cool to me.” He went on, leaving you a bit stunned at his words.
“Hwa…” The old nickname slipped from your lips in a whispered tone and his eyes found yours, locking onto them as a few seconds passed by in stretched silence. Seonghwa opened his mouth to speak again, hesitating at first before licking his lips, and asked, “Can I tell you something?”
Words felt like they would fail you right now so you simply nodded for him to continue. Seonghwa swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking again. “I’m really happy that you still remember me. I know that's silly to say because it's only been a couple of years but I wouldn't know how to feel if you acted as if I was a complete stranger…” He said, looking away with an almost pained expression despite the smile still on his face.
“I would never! We were important to each other back then.” You told him, scooting closer to him on the couch as you reached out to place your hand over his own. Seonghwa’s eyes shot down toward the movement, feeling the warmth of you from your body’s proximity and your fingers touching him so delicately, then back up to your face. “And now? He questioned, hopeful, as he placed one of his hands over yours and squeezed.
You squeezed his hand back and sighed. “I was scared of the same thing… that you would forget about me or pretend like you did. Or you would see me and want nothing to do with me so I figured I’d try to avoid you... But after you showed up and we talked, it feels like you never really left at all.” You admitted, feeling Seonghwa subtly shuffle closer to you.
“I thought about you almost all of the time during the years we spent not with each other, Y/N. I don't think I could forget you even if I tried.” He admitted back, similar to the words Hongjoong had said to you the other day. That had to have been something Hongjoong had heard him say when they bumped into each other and you mentally noted to punch the man whenever he got home.
Right now, however, you were going to focus on Seonghwa and what you wanted to do next.
Your hand came up to wrap around the back of his neck and he froze, his body stiffening as you leaned in close until your lips were a breath away from his own. “Tell me if this is okay. I want to show you how important you still are to me.” You murmured, the movement of your lips lightly brushing against Seonghwa’s causing him to exhale shakily.
A quick nod was all the confirmation you needed before diving in, catching his mouth in a deep kiss. You untangled your other hand from his lap and brought it up to join the one around his neck as you pulled him closer, crawling your way into his lap in the process until you were straddling one of his thighs.
Seonghwa’s body shook slightly underneath you, his hands hovering over your sides as if he were hesitating to touch. You pulled away briefly, nibbling at his bottom lip before tugging it and making him groan. “You can touch me.” You said, sensing his hesitation, and started to lick the seam of his parted lips.
He let you in with no resistance, the feeling of your tongue against his wet and probing as his hands gripped onto your waist tightly.
You licked in to Seonghwa’s mouth eagerly as you started to move forward until he was effectively pushed onto his back with ease. Feeling breathless, you parted from his mouth again to catch yourself but started to trail your lips from the side of his face to his neck where you began to bite and suck at the sensitive skin there.
“Y/N…” He gasped before letting out a whiny moan. Your eyes flitted up to his face to take in the sight of Seonghwa— already looking debauched and fucked out, and you barely even started. “What do you want, Hwa?” You mumbled against his skin and he shivered at the sensation.
“Whatever you want. You take the lead. Please.” Seonghwa replied in a strained voice, holding onto you as if you were a lifeline.
When you suddenly pulled away from him and stood up, Seonghwa shot up in panic wondering if he had said something wrong until you put your hand out for him to take wordlessly.
He kept his mouth shut and took it, letting you guide him all the way to your bedroom where you closed the door behind him with a click of the lock, officially sealing your fate together.
“You told me to take the lead, right?” You questioned once you were facing Seonghwa again, slowly approaching him. Your finger traced small shapes onto his chest as you backed him up into the bed, the back of his knees hitting the edge and making him sit down.
His ass hadn't been on the bed for more than 3 seconds before Seonghwa slid off of it and onto his knees in front of you, peering up with wide expectant eyes. “Yes. You can do whatever you want to me, I’ll enjoy anything you give me.” His tone of voice sounded airy as he uttered those words and you couldn't help but run your fingers through his hair as he leaned into your touch.
“You’re already on your knees for me… surely you already had something in mind.” You smirked at him teasingly, watching him shift under your gaze. “Can I…?” He trailed off questioningly as his eyes flickered quickly from your face to the crotch of your sweatpants and back up again. Heat pooled in the pit of your stomach seeing how eager he was to please. Eager to please you.
You tugged your sweatpants down until they dropped unceremoniously onto the floor, kicking away the article of clothing before stepping closer to Seonghwa. His breathing had gotten shallow once his eyes fell onto your panty-covered pussy, the thin layer of the material leaving little to the imagination. The small wet spot he could see near the center made his cock twitch, straining against his pants.
Seonghwa’s hands gently grazed along your ankles first, gradually going higher from there to the back of your knees and up the back up your thighs. A small shiver raked through you when his fingers traced the lining of your underwear, slipping under the band a little as he grabbed ahold of your ass.
“A-Ah… Hwa…” You moaned softly when he pressed you forward into his face and placed a lingering kiss onto your mound right where your clit was. You took a step closer to him, pressing his face fully into your pussy now, and what little hold he had of his composure immediately slipped.
Seonghwa groaned as he buried his face into every crevice he could fit into, his long tongue rolling out of his mouth so he could run it along the moist material messily. “Knew you’d taste good,” He mumbled against the inside of your thigh, “Smell good, too. I could only dream about something like this happening in real life.” He added before latching his lips onto your clit and sucking the bud through the fabric. This plus the friction of your panties still covering your pussy was enough to make your body lurch forward a bit.
The back of Seonghwa’s head was now pressed against the edge of the bed, pinned between the comforter as you began to grind against his face.
“You should've told me sooner. I think I like seeing you like this.” You told him with a breathless giggle, swiveling your hips as Seonghwa tried to follow every movement to the best of his ability. He didn't mind it. You were using him to pleasure yourself and he couldn't be any more happier.
His grip on your ass had tightened when he felt you begin to back up and you rubbed your thumb against his wrist to make him loosen his hold. “I just wanna move onto the bed, Hwa.” You reassured him and he reluctantly let go. Despite not being completely bare, the evidence of your arousal shined like a gloss on Seonghwa’s bruised lips when you got a good look at him.
You crawled onto your bed, peeling your shirt and dampened panties off before throwing them somewhere you’d worry about later, and waited for Seonghwa to join you. Realizing your lack of underwear now, he followed along until he was stripped bare and crawled slowly up the bed until he was situated between your spread thighs.
Seonghwa’s eyes stayed locked onto your own as he trailed kisses along the inside of your thigh, bringing his face closer and closer until he could finally taste you without restriction or barriers.
The first swipe of Seonghwa’s tongue starting slowly from your hole up to your clit had your legs spreading out wider for him. And when his plump lips wrapped around your clit sucking earnestly, you felt your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head as you reached out to grip his hair roughly.
Seonghwa groaned, muffled by his ministrations, and the vibration of it made your hips buck up. He unlatched himself from your clit briefly only to laser focus his attention on dipping his tongue into your hole to lap up whatever juices started to leak from it.
“Hwa,” His name came out in a shuddered moan as you placed your hands on his shoulders and squeezed to get his attention, “I really need you.”
Seonghwa’s response came delayed, spending a couple extra minutes using his tongue to simply savor your taste before he made his way up your body where his mouth came crashing into yours. “You have me, baby.” He panted between open-mouthed kisses as his hand came up between your bodies to grab ahold of his throbbing cock.
“Do I?” You smirked against his mouth, nudging his hand out of the way so you could wrap your own around his length. Seonghwa gasped lightly, bucking up into the tight ring of your fist. “You think you could switch places with me, baby?” You purred as you stroked his cock languidly. It didn't take long for him to carefully flip the two of you over and have you hovering above him.
“Fuck, you're–” Seonghwa breathed out, eyes glued to your face as you rubbed the tip of his dick through your folds, “you’re just as beautiful as I always remembered but this is truly a sight.” He said while trailing his hands along your thighs then higher up to your hips where he held onto them as you lined him up to your entrance.
The breach stung a bit once you started to sink down onto him and Seonghwa rubbed his thumbs gently into your hip bones as you took your time taking him all the way inside of you. “I’m starting to believe that crush everyone keeps saying you had on me.” You sighed out once your pelvic bone met his, moving your hips slowly in small circles as you relished the way Seonghwa felt so deep inside of you.
“Have,” Seonghwa corrected as he tried to keep himself still under your movements, twitching every time he felt your walls constrict around his cock, “I think it was obvious to everyone but you.” He licked at his lips before tucking his bottom lip between his teeth when you lifted yourself up momentarily only to sink yourself back down onto him.
Picking up a steady pace now, not going too fast or too slow, you simply enjoyed the way Seonghwa stretched you out and filled you up with every movement of your hips. A whimper-like sound punched out of him when you came back down just a little bit harder, clenching around his cock, and you cooed at the noise. “Poor baby. Am I at least making it up to you well?” You pouted at him with a tilt of your head, smoothing a hand down his chest soothingly.
“Noona,” Seonghwa whined, your body immediately stiffening at the sound of his voice sounding so wrecked, “Please, please go faster.”
You obliged without question, deciding that you would have a chance to tease him another time. You pressed your hand down flat on Seonghwa’s chest and used it as leverage to ride him the way you knew you would both love; bouncing on his dick as he thrusted upward involuntarily to meet the action.
This helps Seonghwa to go a little bit deeper, the head of his cock brushing along your walls just right until he hits directly at the spot that has you quivering above him.
You can barely hold yourself up and soon feel your arm give out as you bow your back and press your foreheads together. “Feel s-so good, baby…” You muttered while staring into Seonghwa’s eyes. His half-lidded gaze stared back briefly before pressing your mouths together in an intimate kiss.
He then caught you off guard by starting to buck up into you, almost frantically, as he wrapped his arms around your body and pressed you to his chest. “Cum with me, please, please, please–” Seonghwa begged, seemingly right on the edge of cumming.
Thankfully you weren't too far behind him with the way he had started to desperately fuck into you. And with the remaining body strength you could muster, you rode him with just as much urgency while still pressed closely to his chest.
Seonghwa had been the first to tip over, pleading over and over again until his voice became slightly hoarse. He stilled himself deep inside of you before you felt warmth filling you up in spurts, a pretty drawn out moan falling from his lips as you clenched around him tightly and followed suit.
You whimpered as Seonghwa helped you ride it out, his hands placed on your waist to help you grind down against him and giving your clit some added friction.
Feeling boneless, but most of all satiated, you finally collapsed against him as he started to rub along your back and traced over your spine. The delicate feeling of his fingers sent a tingle throughout your being that you could only chalk up to the resurfacing of those feelings you had kept hidden so deep within.
Seonghwa attempted to sit up and you grumbled in protest causing a laugh to escape him. “We have to get cleaned up.” He reasoned but you only clung on to him tighter as he rose and had you seated on his lap. “Will you stay afterwards?” You asked quietly, hope laced into your tone with a hint of vulnerability. Because now that you had him in your life again you would be damned to see him go so quickly.
“Of course. I’m not going anywhere without you again.” Seonghwa said, leaning forward to press his lips chastely against your forehead before looking at you with eyes full of love and sincerity.
Those same eyes that always held the stars in them that sparkled like glitter and reassured you that he would be right by your side for as long as you would let him.
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boyinatown · 1 year ago
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Can I request smut for Samuel where he finds out by overhearing a conversation or something like that, where shy!reader is into being handled roughly while tied up and also being praised.
DIRTY SECRET!
A/n: ahhh! Finally a Samuel smut request, I’m losing my mind. This took long to write. 😭 enjoy.
Warning: sexual themed, bondage and praising kink!
Pairing: Samuel seo x GN! reader!
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Never ever have i thought of being tied up was my thing, but when my friend on call suggests it’s the hottest thing that could happen to you , i searched up on my laptop and that then and there curiosity got the better of me: bondage kink claimed!
Now dating Samuel i didn’t have much space to move around when the two of us had sex, his muscular arms and veiny hands always kept me down where he wanted me, so being kept in place wasn’t really an issue with me.
Instead, i liked it when he held me by my throat, thrusts going on and on pounding into my soaking hole taking in more and more and the sound of skin slapping mixed with hoarse moans whenever he kept going for minutes that felt like hours.
But being actually tied up? That sounded way hotter then i wanted it to be. I honestly wanted to experience it , but there was only one problem.
How could i bring this up to Samuel? I mean it’s Samuel, wouldn’t he find it weird that his beloved innocent shy lover was now begging to be tied up and fucked roughly?
I could never explain that to him, for now I guess I’ll just stick to his arms keeping me in place, it’s not like I don’t like it it’s awesome…but the bondage one..that’s where it’s at.
But I can’t accept the humiliation, goodbye kink.
——————— ★
“Bondage kink, how to tie yourself down? How to steam up sex with partner? damn baby, I didn’t know you were this filthy.”
Samuels piercing gaze still on my nude figure and the ropes tightening with each second I can feel myself heat up my my face and other places, trying to avoid his eyes he notices and lifts my chin up with his finger looking away from my phone where I left the tabs open for him to see.
“Is that want you want? Why didn’t you just ask me, I would’ve gladly tied you up earlier y’know.”
“Please Samuel..don’t tease me-“
My voice gets quickly cut off when I feel him place his lips on mine and harshly kissing me, pushing my head further into the headboard and his hands groping my body. He liked it and I knew it , by the way he’s licking my neck all the way down to my stomach and kissing it while looking up at me with hazed eyes.
My small gasps and chest heaving up and down rapidly make the bulge in his pants tighten, even though it’s black I can see a print. It’s no secret, he was huge whenever he and I had sex no matter how many times I could never adjust directly and would need approximately atleast a few minutes.
But today it seems like he doesn’t care by the way he’s eagerly licking at my sensitive spot, his finger prodding at my hole and just plunging in without a warning sending me to lift my upper body and head throwing back against the headboard with a small thud. The pillows already off the bed due to my feet kicking them whenever Samuel hit my g-spot and making me cry and wail like a desperate dog in heat.
Humiliation taking over me and sending me to cry and soft callings of his name to which each time he responded.
“S-Samuel, oh fuck Samuel Samuel..”
“Yeah baby, what’s wrong? What is it tell me..I can’t help you if you won’t say what’s worrying you..”
He teased me everytime and knew I couldn’t respond when the pleasure takes over me, I lock my thighs around his arm and cum with a loud moan, he just watches me come undone with a mean grin as if he enjoyed it to much.
The ropes forming a line on my wrists and ankles due to how much I was moving around trying to escape them but they’re way meaner and better in keeping me in place then Samuel because they were actually not merciful on me like he was giving me a chance to stretch my limbs.
And that’s when I notice Samuel taking off his belt slowly making me try to clench my thighs together but the ropes said otherwise keeping me in place as I whine causing Samuel to chuckle while maintaining eye contact taking off his clothing. After he removed everything and just held his cock in his hand rubbing it on my lower stomach spurring me on and I try to grind back against him but failing cause of the ropes he just kissed my forehead and then starts pushing his self inside me slowly and I hiss out.
“I know baby I know, breathe in and out relax your muscles.”
“It’s to much! It hurts..”
“I’ll be gentle okay? Tell me what to do.”
Hiding my face in the crook of his neck I breathe against his ear and whimpering when he keeps sliding in slowly finally bottoming out and I peek through my eyes between my thighs to see his dick fully inside forming a print in my stomach and I let out a small moan laying my head down.
“You can move..”
He nods taking out his dick slowly then going back in again doing this on repeat pushing me further into the bed and biting at my neck leaving marks, my moans get louder and he takes it as a sign to lose his self to my warmth and ruins my insides.
The bed creaking sure to almost crack hitting against the wall continuously and I knew the neighbors would complain to me again about the noises but I could care less losing my self and yelling out his name.
“Fuck yeah , louder. Your doing so good for me , so precious and gorgeous/handsome for me all mine , all - fucking- mine.”
“I can’t , s-shit’ harder! Fuck me harder!-“
The praising of his voice making me cry and beg for more all while he continues his rough thrusting and pounding my hole tightening on him desperately trying to milk out all his seed, and it does.
After what seemed like hours I finally feel Samuel fill me up and some cum even spilling out since my insides couldn’t take much more and there wasn’t much room, then pulling out and looking down at my crying form weeping and twitching from how hard my orgasm hit.
“You okay precious? I didn’t hurt you did I?”
“No, I felt good…”
“Ah, you dirty pervert, I know your dirty secret now.”
Samuel continues teasing me and I just look at him , he finally takes off the ropes that held me down and I immediately latch on to him hugging his broad back and my hands trying to touch every muscle.
He continues kissing my neck and collarbone while massaging my thighs and stomach, then looks at me with his lips tugged into a smile.
“Wanna go again?”
Furiously blushing at his request I slap his arms playfully and he just laughs loudly, then hugs me kissing me again, and I feel his bulge on my stomach making me sigh and nod up at him.
Could have sworn I saw his eyes beam with stars, or either my vision was clouded with stars due to how hard he fucked me. Ah well, guess I’ll be seeing the Milky Way tonight. <3
…and did. ★
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yuesya · 11 months ago
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There's a girl lazily lounged over a chair in a café in the street.
She's sprawled out in a graceless, careless manner. One that causes more than a few people to turn their heads to glance at the shameless display of such uncouth mannerisms in a public area… but the white-haired girl herself does not appear to notice the attention at all. Instead, her attention is focused on the untouched slice of cake sitting on the table in front of her, with an expression that wavers between aversion and curiosity.
"Hello, Shiki. How have you been doing?"
Uraume watches impassively as Kenjaku strides forward and takes a seat across from the girl at her table with a smile. The girl does not return the greeting, however. Dark blue eyes flick towards him dismissively, then cut over to Uraume–
–no, not to Uraume. Nanami Shiki’s gaze rests upon Lord Sukuna.
“Fushiguro… no,” the girl mutters to herself. Then, straightens with a spark of something approaching interest in her eyes. “Ryomen Sukuna. I thought the vessel was the Itadori boy?”
“I’m afraid your news are rather outdated,” Kenjaku shakes his head, smiling. “But this was a recent development, so I don’t blame you for not knowing.”
“Hmm,” the girl says. She leans forward on the table, one hand lazily propped under her chin. “So. Why are you here?”
“Can’t you take a guess?” Kenjaku lifts his hands and raises his palms harmlessly. “We seek the fingers that you have in your possession –Ryomen Sukuna’s fingers. For what price would you be willing to part with them?”
“No.”
Kenjaku raises an eyebrow. “‘No?’ You would take the side of sorcerers in this conflict? Is that what you really want, now?”
“If you really knew what I wanted,” the girl informs him simply, “Then you would know better than to show yourself before me like this.”
A momentary stillness; the calm before the storm.
Kenjaku promptly throws himself backwards, right as the tip of a knife grazes his jugular. There are startled shouts from all around them, at the sudden, unexpected sight of a girl pulling out a weapon in the middle of broad daylight–
Uraume hadn’t expected this, either. Hadn’t expected the girl to suddenly just attack like this, with no care for anything or anyone around her. Snake-like cursed spirits spring up from beneath Kenjaku’s feet, hissing as they leap towards the now-hostile curse user–
She doesn’t pause for a single instant, slicing through them all like paper. Including the regular humans who’d been swept up in the wave of Kenjaku’s cursed spirits. There’s absolutely no hesitation at all, not even the slightest hint of pause.
“This is a little much, don’t you think?”
“Did you honestly think I wouldn’t recognize you?” The girl levels her knife at Kenjaku, “Araya’s collaborator.”
Cursed energy flares, and there is the cold flash of a blade–
Lord Sukuna catches the knife and shatters it in his bare palm; the girl changes targets immediately, somehow procuring another knife out of nowhere.
The best option would be to negotiate. But if it comes down to a battle… make sure that she doesn’t cut you. Nanami Shiki’s abilities are… very lethal.
Lord Sukuna gestures sharply with his hand; a long gash opens up instantly on the curse user, who doesn’t appear to feel the pain at all, for all the effect that the gaping wound has on their movements. Uraume’s hands slam onto the ground; jagged spire of ice surging forward and–
The girl glances over at Uraume, and suddenly Uraume is… frozen. Frozen in place and unable to move even a single finger, heart gripped tight with some unholy, inexplicable terror, but that can’t be right, Uraume can’t be–!
“Uraume,” Lord Sukuna says. Why does it sound as if Lord Sukuna’s voice is coming from somewhere far, far away? “Don’t interfere.”
Uraume attempts to open their mouth to respond. They are unable to.
The girl looks away from Uraume. Uraume’s body collapses forward, and… and…
“Are they important to you?”
“Merely a competent subordinate.”
The girl hums, a noncommittal sound. There’s a corner of Uraume’s mind that burns with anger at such disrespect shown to Lord Sukuna, but at the same time he is also keenly aware that the level of battle that is about to take place is not something within his abilities to–
Casually, the girl’s hands rise up and fold together into a seal in front of her chest.
“Let’s see,” she says, “Domain Expansion.”
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ah0minecchi · 8 months ago
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BETTER THAN THE REST…★ (knb x fem!reader)
index ☆ next chapter →
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NOW PLAYING! 💿 let me love you - ariana grande
PROLOGUE: “if it feels right, promise i don’t mind.”
<𝟑.𖥔 ݁ ˖
“CMOOON Y/N I DON’T WANNA BE ALL BY MYSELF!!” momoi, my best friend form college, practically screamed through her phone and into my ear.
“you’ll be with your highschool friends, what will i do there? plus, i’m not in the mood to be honest…” i calmly responded. honestly why does she want me to go to that stupid party anyways. i don’t know anybody there besides her. “i can introduce you to my friends! they’re soooo nice i swear! aaaand they’re tall basketball players…” she added suggestively to try and convince me. like a group of men would convince me to do anything… “but tetsu is-“ “yours. i know momoi…” i completed her sentence while giggling a bit. she’s been talking about this ‘tetsu’ nonstop ever since i met her.
“do you have anything better to do anyways?” sounded mean but i knew she asked sincerely. “mmm not really. just cry myself to sleep and watch saiki k.” i responded nonchalantly. “goshhhh please don’t tell me you’re still crying about your ex, y/n… it’s been like AGES since you two broke up.” she whined “two weeks momoi. it’s been two weeks.” i corrected her. “MY POINT EXACTLY!!! maybe you can get your mind off of him tonight… and who knows? someone may help you with that…” she tried to cheer me up, adding a hint of mischief by the end of her sentence.
she was right, i have been digging myself in a hole for two weeks, maybe it is time to get my mind on something else… maybe someone else… just for the night.
“you know what? fuck it, i’ll go with you, but let me borrow that shiny dress of yours.” i said suddenly feeling confident. “DEAL!!” i’ll pick you up at 10. see yaaaa luv yaaaa!!” momoi replied a little too excited, making me laugh before she hung up.
maybe it’s not too bad of an idea. i haven’t been too a party in quite some time, and i’m craving vodka shots and some dancing. even some male attention wouldn’t hurt me… just to boost my ego of course.
i look at my phone. damn, almost 9pm, i should take a shower and pretend that i don’t look like shit right now. i showered, put on some sweatpants while i didn’t have momoi’s dress, did my makeup and straightened my hair. “ate.” i commented out loud looking at myself in the mirror.
9:45. i still have some time to laze around and do nothing. i started wondering how tonight would go. who even are momoi’s friends. curiosity got the best of me, so i opened instagram and started stalking through momoi’s following. i don’t really know their names, just heard of this ‘tetsu’, and momoi’s childhood friend aomine.
i typed his name into the search bar and a private account popped up. fuck, now i can’t go on with my daily dose of stalking. i take a close look at his profile picture. he’s not bad looking at all, but considering he had 2.685 followers and just 108 following, i could assume his ego was through the damn roof.
i gave up on him and look for this ‘tetsu’ boy. kuroko tetsuya was his full name apparently. another private account. why does everyone now seem to be so fucking misterious?. he had a small following and very few followers, seemed low profile. his profile picture showed him smiling with a puppy on top of his head… kinda cute.
i almost got a heart attack when my doorbell started ringing on full fucking blast. it was momoi for sure. i opened the door to my apartment seeing her in a cute black tight dress and a leather jacket. she gave me no time to say hello as she handed me the shiny dress i asked her for and told me to ‘hurry tf up cause the uber would be arriving in no time.’ i hurried to my bathroom, put on the dress, and settled for a pair of converse, since this wasn’t really formal or anything. i took my purse, my phone, and ran to the door to meet my friend there. “stunning! you’ll have all my friends drooling over you! except tetsu, he’s-“ “YOURS I KNOW! and thanks bestie, you look beautiful as well.” i laughed and thanked her.
we got off the elevator and the uber was already there. we then head off to this oh so exciting party… maybe i am excited tho.
“AOMINE COME MEET US AT THE FRONT DOOR WE’RE ALMOST THERE” momoi shouted excitedly into her screen. “jeez… okay just stop screaming into my ear for fucks sake.” the boy responded. he had a deep voice and a tired tone. kinda suits his face.
we finally arrived, when we got to ring the bell, the door opened, showing someone neither of us were expecting.
“kise?!”
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a/n: FIRST CHAPTER DONE YESSIR!! ngl i’m excited for what i have planned for this.
LIKES, COMMENTS & REBLOGS are veeerrryy appreciated !! <3
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revelboo · 2 months ago
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Please, more Jazz 🙏🙏 it's one of my favourite storyline of yours, and I honestly love jazz so much, the nicknames are doing things to me 🫡
Don't feel pressured tho, take care of yourself. You're the best! 😋
I’m good. Just slow down when I write long form rather than these quick fics
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Over It Now Pt 13
IDW Jazz x Reader
• Spreading out the blanket on the grass in the shade of the pin oak, he fidgets with the pillows he’d taken from the furniture on your porch. Satisfied, his attention turns back to your house. Watching your shadow moving around in the kitchen, as he heads back to the house and waits. When you finally open the door, you’ve got a tote bag in your fist as you awkwardly shuffle out the door with your crutches. Not even protesting when he reaches to pick you up and carry you across the grass to that pile of pillows.
• When he’d asked if you’d share a meal with him, it had seemed so silly to you. Knowing neither of you can eat what the other does, but he’d looked so serious when he asked. Not smiling like he’s teasing you and that’s what had made you agree. There’d been something real and vulnerable in that request. It’s chilly outside even with your jacket and you shiver as he settles you in the midst of what you’re certain is every decorative pillow and cushion that had been on your porch. “Thanks,” you say, reaching to touch his servos as he nudges a pillow closer and sets your crutches aside.
• “Surprised at how domestic I am, doll?” He asks, flashing a grin as he sits with a leg outstretched and the other drawn up, that little touch spreading warmth through him. Waiting until you unpack your strange smelling human food before reaching for his own energon cube.
• He’s sipping at that glowing goop, and you can see the mesh of his throat working as he swallows. Reminding you that even if he’s metal, he’s alive. It’s not like you haven’t known he wasn’t just a machine for a long time now, but it strikes you every now and then. “Just surprised you’re behaving,” you counter as you pick at your food, very aware of that visor flaring slightly. That he’s watching you eat with open curiosity to make you feel self conscious.
• “Nah.” Watching you shiver and huddle into your coat, he’s leaning forward. Picking you up plate and all, and settling you on his thigh against his frame as you inhale. “I have a reputation to maintain.” Servos lingering against you, he waits for you to get mad. But it’s your turn to surprise him by leaning into him. It’s only that he’s warmer than you are and he knows it, but that little show of trust throws him off balance.
• “The lying,” you say as you take a bite and he stiffens against you. Immediately on guard making you almost let it go. But that’s you, always unable to leave well enough alone. “You want to talk about it?”
• “Nothing to talk about.” He’s smiling still, but it feels brittle as one of his servos gently taps against your ribs. Wants you to let it go, don’t push. Don’t ruin this for him, because he just wanted to share a quiet moment with you. A little peace. Because the truth is that he doesn’t know how not to lie anymore. Playing spy, wearing a smiling, harmless face to hide how awful he really is underneath. Smiling instead of screaming at the things he’s been forced to do throughout the war. Things that haunt his recharge. That’s why he needs this, needs you. Your innocence reminds him of who he’d been and what he’d lost. And protecting you so you don’t end up broken and bitter like he is? It’s everything. “I’m just a liar, doll.”
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skyward-floored · 2 years ago
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Different, Yet Similar
I woke up a few days ago with this fic in my head and for some reason I was able to write it out really quick, I don’t know how that happened XD I also decided it was the perfect opportunity to try out a slightly different writing style, and while I don’t think I’ll stick with it, it was an interesting experiment anyways :)
————————————————————
“So... how did you guys all meet your Zeldas?”
Wind is the one to pose the question, said while looking around with curious eyes at the rest of the Links. Most of who now have varying expressions of surprise on their faces, the question unexpected.
“Why do you ask, sailor?” Time asks, his single eye watching him curiously. Wind shrugs, fiddling with one of the power bracelets that has taken permanent residence on his wrists. They’re good for fidgeting with, he’s found.
“I’m just curious if any of us met ours similarly or not.” His mouth turns up into a grin. “I mean, I met Tetra after she got dropped by a giant bird and got stuck in a tree. I’d bet none of you guys met yours quite like that.”
Snickers ring through the camp, though a few of the Links give the sailor mildly concerned looks as well. The nonchalance with which Wind speaks of the antics he and his princess get up to sometimes worries them.
“Was she okay?” Hyrule asks in concern, and Wind nods, waving him off with a small flick of his wrist.
“Totally fine. Tetra’s tough, it would take more than a fall from a giant bird to rattle her.”
“A giant bird?” Sky asks eagerly, perking up a little. Wind doesn’t perk up in return though, rather he cringes at the excitement in Sky’s voice.
This isn’t a giant bird like the kind Sky is used to.
“Not a nice one,” he replies, thinking back to the crimson bird that was Sky’s best friend. “Ganondorf was using the bird to kidnap girls he thought might’ve been Zelda. Tetra had been grabbed, but she got dropped because her pirate crew managed to score a hit on the bird... the Helmarok king. He wasn’t nice,” Wind finishes more quietly, an unusual dark thread of anger in his voice.
Then he sighs, and shakes off the memories, looking around at the other Links in curiosity.
“So? How’d you guys meet your Zeldas?”
“Um... which one?” Hyrule asks hesitantly, scratching his neck. He’s in the rather unique position of knowing two princesses by the name of Zelda, a fact which often confuses his traveling companions. “I kinda have two...”
“Do both,” Wild says from where he’s seated nearby, and Hyrule nods.
“Okay. Well... there’s not really much to tell, honestly. For the first Zelda, I just met her after I defeated Ganon. He’d captured her, and after I defeated him I got her out and took her back to the castle.”
Hyrule laughs a little then, and looks up at the sky, constellations just starting to come into view.
“We were both a mess when I got into the place where he’d been keeping her; I was dirty and bleeding in multiple places, and Zelda had basically been living in a dungeon for a few weeks. It wasn’t exactly polite company,” he chuckles.
The others laugh a little at Hyrule’s story, though some of them wince in sympathy at the mention of his wounds. Fights with Ganon were never easy.
They’re all aware of how powerful their greatest foe is.
“How about your other Zelda? How did you meet her?” Sky asks, and Hyrule suddenly blushes for some reason, fidgeting with his bracers.
“Well um, she’d been cursed into a long sleep by an evil wizard, so when I first saw her she wasn’t even awake,” he admits. “But after I woke her up, that’s when I actually met her.”
“And what happened then?” Legend asks with a teasing smirk, having noticed Hyrule was still blushing.
The traveler’s cheeks darken a little, but he admits to nothing. “She said thank you for waking her up.”
“And how did she say thank you?” Wind asks with a mischievous look in his storm-tossed eyes.
Hyrule blushes even darker, but still admits to nothing— though the face he’s making says an awful lot. The others really don’t need to know about the kiss he received in thanks for waking the second Zelda: he knows he’ll never hear the end of it if they do.
Hyrule manages to meet Wind’s gaze without faltering, crossing his arms with a firm look.
“With her mouth, of course. How else would she say thanks?” he says a bit haughtily, and Time decides to intervene before poor Hyrule’s face turns any redder.
“I met my Zelda in a fairly simple way,” he says, and the other Links turn to look at him, abandoning their pursuit of getting an answer out of Hyrule in favor of listening to what Time has to say. Their unofficial leader rarely gives them details of his adventures, no less his version of the princess they’re all so familiar with. “I was... about nine, I believe, maybe ten.”
He sighs, shaking his head as he thinks back to when so much of his life had abruptly changed.
“I was instructed to go see her, but they didn’t want to let a mere child in at the gate. So I snuck into the castle to talk to her, and succeeded, more than once. The guards hated that a ten-year-old could get past them without being seen,” he says with a chuckle. “They weren’t terribly good at their jobs.”
“That’s a little like how I met my version of the princess,” Twilight says thoughtfully, a hand on his chin. “‘Course I didn’t sneak into the castle, I was trying to sneak out.”
“Why, were you in the dungeon?” Legend scoffs, and Twilight smirks.
“That’s exactly it, actually.”
Legend’s face turns to one of surprise, and more laughter rings out from the Links, especially from Wild.
“I was wondering when you were gonna tell them you’re an escaped convict,” he grins at his mentor, and Twilight swats at him with a look both fond and annoyed.
“I’m not an escaped convict,” he says with an eye roll. “The enemy had overtaken the castle, they’re the ones who threw me in there. I committed no crime.”
“Mmm, I’m pretty sure some of the stuff you’ve done counts as crime,” Wild cuts in again, a grin twitching at his lips. “What about the time you blew up that old—”
“Somebody else’s turn,” Twilight interrupts, putting a hand over Wild’s mouth, much to his annoyance. He’d rather wanted to be the one to tell the others about that particular incident.
“Smithy? How about you? You’re pretty good friends with your Zelda, right?” Twilight asks, ignoring the clamor of the others to elaborate.
Four nods, and a bright smile stretches across his face at the reminder of his closest friend.
“You’re right, I’ve known Zelda as long as I can remember,” Four begins as he sets aside the dagger he’d been sharpening, eyes warm. They suddenly dim a little though, and he clears his throat. “I think the first true memory I have of her was at my... a family member’s funeral.”
The other Links still as the smithy speaks, Twilight relinquishing his hold on Wild so they can both better hear. Four looks down at his hands as he thinks back to that day, but then a bit of a smile returns to his lips.
“She came because the family member knew the crown fairly well. We were the only kids there, so we ended up talking a lot... That’s when I really got to know her, and we’ve been close ever since,” he finishes quietly.
“That was similarly to how I met mine,” Sky says after a moment of silence, his voice soft. Four nods at him to continue, and Sky returns it with a bit of a smile. “I knew Zelda a little before, it was impossible not to on Skyloft. There’s not all that much space... but that was the problem when the sickness went through...”
He trails off, then shakes his head as if to clear it, hair falling in his face as he takes a steadying breath.
The memory of the death of his parents isn’t one he likes to linger on, even if it inadvertently led to him becoming friends with Zelda.
“Anyways,” Sky continues, clearing his throat, “I ended up living in the Knight’s academy before I was old enough to attend, and since Zelda lived there with her father as well, we played together all the time. It was inevitable we’d at least become friends.”
“You became a bit more than just friends though, or so I’ve heard,” Warriors says slyly, and Sky blushes as the laughter returns. The captain’s attempt at lightening the mood has succeeded.
“We... haven’t officially become anything,” Sky says simply, and the rest of them shoot each other knowing looks. It’s no secret that Sky is head-over-heels for his Zelda. It’s only a matter of time before something becomes official.
Sky looks back at Warriors then, the captain still chuckling a little over the reaction to his comment.
“You haven’t told us how you met your Zelda, captain,” he points out, and Warriors’ laughter peters off, a fond look replacing the mirth in his eyes.
“Ah, you caught me. Mine is complicated though,” he says with a slightly distant tone in his voice, and the others settle in to listen again. Warriors has mentioned more of his Zelda than some of the others, but not everything they’ve done or been through.
And while he speaks of her with nothing but professionalism, there’s a fondness in his eyes that a few of the Links have picked up on, one that speaks of a deeper bond.
One that nobody’s called him out on yet, but it’ll only be a matter of time.
“I only sort of met her the first time,” Warriors begins, leaning back on the log where he’s seated. “The war had just started, and things were... complicated, to say the least. Messy. She disguised herself to keep her identity safe, so I didn’t truly meet Zelda for quite some time.”
“But when you did?” Wind asks eagerly, and Warriors chuckles.
“It was worth the wait. But I got to know her while she was disguised, so in a way... I already knew her,” he says with a bit of mystery, and Time smiles from the opposite side of the fire.
Time still remembers the day Sheik shed her disguise and revealed herself to be the princess. Warriors was so shocked he’d said something rather idiotic, and Artemis had laughed at him a bit nervously, and then the two of them had gone off to have a long overdue conversation about her true identitiy.
Time won’t bring it up though. He’ll let Warriors keep a few of his secrets yet.
“That leaves... Wild and Legend left who haven’t said anything,” Wind says after a moment, counting off on his fingers.
The two look up at their nicknames, but Wild has a slightly uncertain look in his eyes, and Legend seems oddly stone-faced. Wind looks between the two, and debates for a moment which one to ask first.
Hyrule beats him to it.
“Champion, do you... remember meeting your Zelda the first time?” Hyrule asks a bit hesitantly. The others quiet at the question, and look as one over at Wild.
They’re all aware of Wild’s memory problems, but nobody except for maybe Twilight is truly aware of the extent they reach their blank grip into the champion’s mind. He still doesn’t remember much of his old life, merely a handful of memories recovered here and there that snatch him out of the life he’s currently living, then return him just as abruptly.
But meeting Princess Zelda is not one of these.
“Nope,” Wild says lightly, somewhat in opposition to the serious mood that has fallen over the heroes. “Not at all. I have no clue how we first met... knowing what she thought of me, I probably accidentally insulted her.”
The heroes chuckle good-naturedly, and Wild waits for the sound of their laughter to fade before continuing.
“No, I don’t remember how we originally met. My first true memory of Zelda isn’t when I met her... whenever that must have been.”
A soft smile parts his lips.
“It... was her voice. Back when I was still asleep. Calling to me, urging me awake once the shrine had finally finished healing me. She guided me when there was nobody else, told me my name, and though I didn’t even remember hers... that was when I first met Zelda.”
Twilight gives his shoulder a squeeze, and Wild lets him, a look full of several conflicting emotions settling on his face.
Warmth is the one that shows itself the most though, and a ghost of a smile flits across Twilight’s face when he sees it.
“How about you, Legend? You’ve been pretty quiet,” Four asks, changing the focus to give Wild some privacy. The prickly veteran tugs his cap tighter over his hair in response, hiding a few more strands of the pink that’s still fading away.
“She called to me too,” he says, voice oddly emotionless. “Woke me up in the dead of night and asked for help, with nothing but her voice.”
Something flickers in his gaze, but it’s gone so quickly nobody can quite catch what it is.
“She guided me to the castle, and I managed to find my way to where she’d been imprisoned in her own dungeon by the forces of darkness. I freed her, and that’s where I met her,” he finishes.
“That’s it?” Wind asks in confusion, a slight tilt to his head, and Legend nods.
“That’s it.”
It’s short and to the point, and while some of the heroes nod, the others that are more aware of how their veteran works pick up on the holes in the story.
The Hero of Legend may seem sharp and fearless, but even he has weak points, moments where he has felt neither like a hero nor strong enough to ever be one. These moments he’s purposefully left out of this story, important though they may be.
These are not moments he shares freely. And especially not during what’s supposed to be a lighthearted answer to the boundless curiosity of the youngest member of their group.
“See sailor? None of us met our Zeldas the same way you did,” Legend says with a smirk, easily changing the subject, and Wind hums, looking around at the heroes as he fidgets with his bracelets again.
“That’s true. But there’s similarities between all of them,” he points out, “and some of them are really similar, like yours and Wild’s.”
“Hyrule’s second one was a bit like Wild’s too,” Twilight points out. “Just reversed.”
“And Twilight’s was kind of like the old man’s,” Hyrule mentions with a bit of wonder to his voice, and that sends the group into a flurry of comparing and contrasting the differences, debating the finer points and wondering if the similarities mean anything.
Four though, hangs back from the conversation, not as willing to discuss things. As he looks around the clearing, he notices he’s not the only one either, and he slips around the fire to where the veteran has retreated, watching the others in silence.
Sky sees him go, but doesn’t comment. He knows what the smithy is doing.
“Hey,” Four greets as he settles down, and Legend doesn’t look at him.
“You need something?” the veteran asks with a sharpness in his voice that threatens to slice Four into pieces. The smithy ignores it, well used to Legend’s prickliness, and continues to sit, watching the others keep on with their loud discussion.
“No. I just didn’t want to keep listening to... all of that,” Four says with a slight smile, watching as Wind lunges across Warriors’ lap to grab at Wild for some reason.
Legend doesn’t reply, face still stony.
Four doesn’t directly look at him, but he watches the veteran from the corner of his eyes, seeing how tightly he’s wound, how his expression is set in a way that seems to be solely for the purpose of keeping it from cracking into something vulnerable.
It’s a familiar look, one that Four’s seen on his own face. There’s a part of him that’s like that, sometimes, but that just means he knows somewhat of how to deal with it... whether Legend wants him to or not.
“It was my mother,” Four says suddenly, breaking the silence.
Legend looks over at him, a flicker of surprise joining the crease on his brow. He appears rather taken aback, and Four waits for his reply.
“What was?” the veteran asks. Four looks up at the sky for what feels like a long, long time before replying, and Legend almost wonders if he’s ever going to speak.
“The funeral where I met Zelda,” Four continues, voice full of a bittersweet pain. “It was my mother’s.”
Legend stares at him a moment, unsure of how to reply.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Four continues, still looking up. His eyes are a reddish color, hints of green and blue peeking through that allude to the emotions he’s keeping a steady control of. “I just wanted you to know... you’re not the only one who didn’t meet Zelda under the... best circumstances.”
Four continues to watch the stars, and Legend swallows, his stony indifference cracking despite his best efforts.
Legend doesn’t like to admit it, but despite how carefully he closes himself off, sometimes he’s just as expressive as Wind— what he doesn’t say actually saying more than anything he admits to. And it looks like Four, dealing with a similar pain, has seen right through him.
The veteran is silent for a long time, listening to the others laugh and carry on, and Four sits beside him in equal silence, waiting for as long as Legend needs.
“My uncle,” he whispers finally, and Four squeezes his shoulder.
He doesn’t say anything more. And he doesn’t need to.
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charmingly-helpless · 7 months ago
Text
forever (pt 3)
A/N: contains some dialogue from CM:E 17x06, but you won't know what it is unless you've watched it.
pairing: jennifer jareau x fem!reader
warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of smut & nudity
word count: 1416
Read on AO3
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
The open window let in a cool breeze, gently blowing strands of blonde hair in an ethereal manner. You watched as JJ sipped from her glass of wine, tucking her hair behind her ear. 
“Honestly? I don’t know,” JJ replied to your question. “It’s… strange. I never thought I’d be a divorced mom. I’ve loved Will for so long. But over time our relationship just went downhill, so slowly that we didn’t even notice until it was too late to save it.”
Your hand slipped to her knee naturally, providing comfort and support. The touch of your hand sent a shiver up JJ’s spine, but she kept her composure.
“How are the kids doing with this?” you asked, genuine concern in your tone.
JJ’s expression softened at the mention of her kids.
“They’re coping, I guess. It’s hard on them, obviously. They’re so young, they don’t understand why their parents can’t be together. I think Henry’s noticed that Will and I don’t really get along, but Michael is practically still a baby. When it’s one of us in the house, they keep asking when the other will come back home.”
At the quiver in her voice, you scooted closer to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
“Don’t blame yourself for this, Jayje. Some parents stay together for the kids, but that just subjects them to a lot more hurt and resentment down the road. I know that you and Will have your kids’ best interests in your heart, and this was the best decision for your family. It’ll get easier, for you and for the kids.”
JJ appreciated your words. She had been struggling with the burden of knowing that her kids were hurt because she and Will couldn’t save their marriage, but your reassurance brought her some measure of relief.
JJ’s hand laid on top of yours. “Thank you, Y/N. I hope you’re right.”
“Oh, Jay… I’m always right,” you joked to lift the mood, earning a laugh from JJ.
Her smile faded slightly, her expression becoming more serious.
“I don’t deserve you.”
Your heart melted at her quiet confession.
“You deserve good things, Jen. You deserve to be happy.”
JJ desperately wanted to believe your words, but the guilt and self-doubt was lingering in her mind. 
“I want to be happy. You make me happy.”
The admission hung in the air, raw and vulnerable. JJ felt a wave of anxiety as she waited for your reaction. She was silently praying she hadn’t crossed any boundaries.
Suddenly, you smiled and JJ’s worries washed away. “You have no idea how happy you make me.”
“How happy?”
You realized how close your faces were, your noses just inches apart. JJ’s gaze was unrelenting. 
“Did you know I was going to quit a few years back?”
JJ’s eyebrow raised in curiosity. “You were going to quit?”
You nodded. “After Atlanta. This job takes a toll on you. I’d been struggling with it for years before that, but that case… I didn’t think I could ever come back from that.”
JJ watched you subconsciously trace your thigh where your scar was hidden under the fabric of your pants. 
“This job takes a lot. But you know what it gives? It gives me you. I decided to stay because it’s where you are.”
JJ’s jaw hung as she absorbed your confession. “I… I don’t know what to say. I never realized… that I had such an impact on you. On your career.”
You nod, holding back your tears. “You do. In every aspect of my life.”
JJ’s eyes became blurry with tears, a mix of gratitude and regret. You reached up to brush back the hair in her face, letting your hand linger on her cheek.
JJ swallowed hard under your intense gaze, taking in every detail and features of her face.
“I think I’ve loved you for a very long time,” the blonde confessed. “I just didn’t let myself realize it.”
When you stayed quiet waiting for her to keep talking, JJ cleared her throat.
“I’d been trying to fight it the whole time,” she admitted. “Convincing myself that I didn’t feel this way. At first, I was just scared that you’d reject me. Then when I got pregnant and married Will, I knew it was too late. But it’s exhausting, Y/N. I don’t want to pretend.”
You licked your dry lips. “You don’t have to pretend. Not anymore.”
You pulled JJ into your space, holding her flush against your body. JJ sighed deeply, feeling the tension in her shoulders release once she was wrapped in your protective arms.
A comfortable silence stretched out between you. JJ pulled back slightly, her big blue eyes meeting yours, and the rest of the world melted away for just a moment.
“I think I should head home.”
“Do you need a ride?” you asked, though neither of you made a move to let go of one another.
JJ shook her head. “No. The hotel’s just down the block, but thank you.”
Your eyebrows furrowed in question.
“You’ve been at a hotel? Jay, you know you can stay here with me.”
“It’s alright, Y/N. I’m just there while I look for an apartment close to the house.”
“Come on, stay. You can search for an apartment without having to keep paying hundreds for your hotel room.”
JJ sighed. “Are you sure?”
“Of course. It’ll be like old times,” you smiled. “Y’know, without the whole ‘apartment on fire’ thing.”
A laugh erupted from JJ. “I still cannot believe you set your apartment on fire. It was truly a gift to see you at my door at 2am, drenched from the sprinklers.”
You pouted, gently pushing JJ away. “It was eight years ago, let it go.”
“Sorry, sorry,” JJ giggled, the sound making you smile. 
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
You and JJ made a plan to check out of the hotel room tomorrow morning and bring her belongings to your apartment. For now, it was late, and you were both ready for bed.
“Where are you going?”
You turned to JJ. “Uh, the couch?”
JJ sat up, the covers slipping down from her shoulders. You had to admit, it was a surreal, yet beautiful sight: her in your clothes, hair slightly mussed, sitting in your bed. 
“Don’t be ridiculous, we’ve shared a bed many times.”
You shrugged. “I wasn’t sure where we stood.”
JJ patted the empty side of the bed. “Get your ass over here.”
You giggled, climbing in under the covers. JJ clicked off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness aside from the hallway light that shone in through the cracked door.
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
“Goodnight, Jayje,” you pressed a kiss to her forehead.
It took only a moment for JJ to give into her desires. She swung a leg over your hips, straddling you as she leaned down, staring at your lips.
“Can I?” she asked breathily.
You gave a frantic nod, and your lips met in a passionate kiss. Your senses were filled with the taste of her lips, her skin against yours, and the faint vanilla perfume she always wears. JJ’s hands cradled your face while yours held onto her waist. The blonde let out soft sighs into the hungry kiss, her hands wandering down to clutch at your shoulders.
The night was filled with a whirlwind of emotions and sensations as you both explored each other’s bodies and souls. By the time dawn broke, both of you were spent, boneless, and satisfied. JJ’s head rested on your chest, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat, a soothing comfort. You breathed in the scent of JJ, relishing in the perfect fit of her body against yours.
JJ smushed her face in the valley between your breasts. “I don’t want to move.”
You chuckled, a hand raking through the mess of blonde hair. “Me neither.”
The two of you savored the warmth in each other’s proximity. You were content to stay just like this, wrapped up in each other’s arms, and let the world wait,
“Just a few more minutes?” JJ asked, her voice hoarse with sleep.
“We have forever.”
JJ’s heart skipped a beat at your effortless reply. The word “forever” carried such weight and promise, making her chest feel tight with emotion. 
You glanced down to see her already looking back at you. The tenderness and affection in her eyes made your breath catch.
“Forever,” she echoed, the word a whispered vow.
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